Crybaby!
by mangospoons
Summary: Hoshiko Yuzumari has a problem. A tall problem. She's tried on her own to work up the courage, but it doesn't work, and with graduation looming closer, what's a girl to do? What else! Call on the Host Club! OC/Mori
1. Prologue

**A story about  
a girl,**

**And a host. **

xoxo,  
Spoons

**Crybaby**

.. Prologue ..

_Fragile, handle with care. You fall in love, then you lose your head. For the last, 24 hours, I've been crying my heart out._

24 Hours - The Sounds

It all started with a book.  
Yes, just a book; nothing special, nothing antique or priceless or personal – not even _sentimental_.

It was just a plain, boring standard-issue Ouran textbook. It was a chemistry book.

Yes, that's it. I was on my way back from the lab, on my way to English.

My name is Hoshiko Yuzumari, Ouran Academy, senior year.

Then, when all this started, I was only a middle school student, but nothing has really changed since them. My hair is still brown and thin and short. My eyes are still grey and watery. My dress is still uncomfortable and I still wear a ribbon on the side of my head; burgundy, like Mother's lipstick in the photograph of her wedding with Father. I still am told I look like Sister, and Sister is very beautiful. I am still one of the shortest girls I know, and just as clumsy as I was that hot April day.

I was in a hurry. Chemistry was…stressful. I'm not dumb; at least, I try not to be. I really try. _Really_ try. But, it doesn't come so naturally, not like Sister. Sister is excellent at Chemistry and Math. I keep my head in the clouds. I like language; I like our foreign poetry club. I like words. They make more sense, but I don't like talking so much.

I like to listen the best.

But…what I really like…best of all, doesn't speak very much.  
He doesn't ever look at me, his eyes always skim over my head, and though I'm sure it's not on purpose, sometimes I really do wish my problem wasn't so…well, tall.

I was on my way to Chemistry when I got my problem. I didn't really want it, but I wasn't paying any attention, as is evident by what occurred (I'm sure you all would just like to know, my apologies! I tend to get round-a-bout when I'm nervous…).

I knew Takashi. He was in my class; always had been, since kindergarten when he asked me for the "Yellow" in my box of crayons. Yellow to color Mitsukuni's hair as they stood next to each other on some grass.

In fifth year elementary he asked me for the page number in class because he wasn't paying attention. He was staring at the piece of something caught in Mitsukuni's yellow hair; a piece of gum wrapper or something that bounced every time Haninozuka-kun moved.

But never, had any boy ever done this. I was only walking to chemistry when my nose collided with the column, white and pale and all my books went flying everywhere. I had hit the column quite hard, I had been walking fast because I was thinking hard, and sometimes my legs get ahead of the rest of me.

I was thinking about Sister. Sister was leaving that week, and I would not see her for a very long while. Sister was getting married.

The tears had sprung up as soon as I had made contact, a terrible habit that started when I was little and screamed whenever Sister teased me, even with the softest touch. Like how sometimes you say 'ow!' when nothing's been done, but you're convinced you've been touched. A reflex.

I hadn't been hurt very badly, just a little scratch on my forehead really, but I still was crying as I stumbled backwards with a yelp, almost tripping over my own shoes.

"Careful." I heard the voice as my arm was snatched by something warm, a calloused hand holding me by the crook of my elbow.

"Ah!" I started, slowly staring up at my rescuer. I can remember clearly the palpitations of my heart, the flush of blood to my cheeks as my grey eyes collided with his own.

Morinozuka Takashi, holding my arm, seeing the horrible tears all over my face. My hair settled back into place and everything went with it, my feet anchoring to the ground, but still, for some reason, the tears just kept coming as I stared at him.

And when some other boy might have looked uncomfortable, or ran, or laughed, Takashi-kun…well…he just looked at me for the longest time as I stood there, and after what seemed a thousand years he let go of my elbow and bent down, and handed me my text book, a simple chemistry one. I tracked the movement the whole time, eyes following him as he moved like clockwork, pushing the book gently back into my dazed hands.

I was mesmerized. Never before had I felt this way; like my whole body was completely numb with electricity, like every time he moved a spark of pent up energy hit the air and crackled and fizzed. And he just stood there beside me, still half holding the book before letting it go, allowing the weight to settle into my fingers. He looked me right in the eyes, and it was so strange.

As if he was seeing all the way down, and understood like the others didn't. That I was trying, at that moment in time, very hard just to get by.

_"You'll be alright." _

His voice hung in the air as he smiled, although it barely counts, just the slightest twitch of his stoic muscles as he backed up and then turned, walking down the hall, the interaction completely over, hands shoved in his pockets, already forgetting what I'd hold and carry with me for the rest of my life.

The bells chimed in the clock tower and I felt the air leave my body with a shudder, tears still coursing in a steady stream down my cheeks. I could still hear his words.

_"You'll be alright._" His eyes as he'd stared at me.

And maybe, maybe Takashi-kun, you were just being kind, but I, still, to this day, think that you understood just a little Takashi-kun.

And all the times after that as well, all those times that meant so much to me, but you probably don't remember.

After all, I'm just a girl, and I've always had this problem, this problem that makes you think I must hate you or something.

But, this problem has also made me realize that I have to conquer it. Before graduation, Takashi-kun I will tell you what I've been desperately trying to tell you for almost my entire life. Ever since that day in middle school when you so kindly helped me, when you said those words to me that made me so happy…so glad, so hopeful.

Takashi-kun, this is a big problem, and you don't understand it, but I'm going to try because I may never see you again, and if that happened I won't be able to live with myself!

So Takashi-kun, be ready, because I'm about to ask for help, because there's no other way I can solve my problem and say what my heart wants!

This problem means I might fail miserably, but it also means I might succeed if I can get some help from this place, this place where you spend your time and talk to other girls so freely (if you actually talk. I wouldn't know, I'm afraid). This problem is full of uncertainty, but I'm going to make you understand.

I've wished upon ten thousand stars…even made a thousand paper cranes for this to work.

But for now, all I know is this:

This problem that has landed me in front of an unfamiliar host club, peering in through the door, completely and utterly terrified.

My name is Hoshiko Yuzumari, Ouran academy senior.

And whenever I see Takashi Morinozuka, I inexplicably and without failure, burst into hysterical crying.

* * *

Love, Hate? Semi-interested?

Leave a reveiew :]

xoxo,  
Spoons


	2. Life of A Star

**Quick update!  
**

**xoxo,  
Spoons**

**Crybaby!**

...Chapter One...

_Life Of A Star_

I have never attended the Host Club…formally.

Dragged there after school once by my friends on occasion, yes, but only to retrieve something left behind or drop off a note of affection to one of the many illustrious boys who work there.

This nonexistent record of attendance is somewhat of an anomaly within itself, but I'm careful about not talking about it. Girls can be silly sometimes and they take the Host Club very seriously. When my friend Nao-chan found out I hadn't been, well she almost fainted.

"_Shiko-chan, you mean to say you've NEVER been to the Host Club, and you're a SENIOR? How can that…Is…is that even possible? I mean EVERY girl at the school goes at least ONCE!"_

I tried to explain my situation, and in the end it ended up coming across rather funny to Naomi. She laughed quite a bit and said that it was probably because _"Mori-kun is so intimdating and Shiko-chan is so small!"_

That really isn't the case, and later, after school, Naomi got a front row seat of my dilemma because I ended up losing my shoe in a puddle on my way to my limo and of course, Takashi-kun was only too kind and offered me his handkerchief. He's always too kind to me, even though I'm sure he's convinced that I'm afraid of him.

That makes me feel terrible, thinking about how Takashi-kun must feel. I'm not saying Takashi-kun is frightening, because he's not! He's very handsome and strong, but I'm sure with his appearance he can be taken a little too seriously, like Kasanoda-kun in grade one. I saw him trailing Takashi for a few days once, and I must admit, he was pretty scary looking, but only because of his face.

He, like Takashi-kun, is surely a very kind person.

In any case I ran away, upset beyond belief and Naomi saw the whole display - from the way I tried to say thank you to the way I dissolved into a mess of tears and had to flee like a cornered rabbit. In the car she consoled me the best she could, having followed me like a good friend.

She's the one who brought up this idea, after being thoroughly told of all my troubles concerning Takashi-kun and how I just can't seem to get close enough to stop sobbing whenever I see him.

"_You should talk to Tamaki-kun! He'll help you! That's what he's there for, to help girls just like you Shiko-chan! Helping women is his only passion, he told me so! Do you know what else he did Hoshiko? He called me a rose among roses, do you know what that means? He's wonderful, He'll help you, I'm only sure! You just have to ask during hours, and he'll do whatever you'd like!"_  
I've seen several of them, and of course, Mitsukuni-kun and Takashi-kun are in my class, so it's only natural I would know them. In the reality of things, Mitsukuni is actually very kind to me and talks to me several times a week, but even then I can tell I'm a bother.

Suoh-san has a very exotic look about him, but I often get the feeling he does not think things through often…but I'm desperate enough to try anything at this point, even talk to that very loud boy and his loud friends.

I'm not an antisocial girl, really, I'm not. I have friends, dear little girls who are very gentle and sweet and silly like me and Nao-chan, but I've never had a boyfriend or any kind of love like that. I'm just too shy for the likes of boys or overly-confident girls like Kanako-san, the beautiful girl they say was kissed by a Host. So it isn't that I don't like Takashi-kun, because that's not true at all!

If I could talk to him, I would do it every day just because I could!

I…well…I guess, really, you'd have to see it to believe it, but I like Takashi-kun _too_ much. All my liking sort of spills over all over the floor whenever I see him and I can't think and everything gets blurry, and before I know it, I'm sobbing.

So now, here I am, standing at the crack in the door, completely defenseless against the biggest fear of them all: Beautiful young boys with too much time on their hands.

But I have to, and it makes me feel stupid, but I do. I have to go here because I can't do this by myself anymore, I've tried so many times I've lost count, and graduation…well, it's closer than ever.

I can hear the chatter of girls behind these doors and the clinks of china as well, and on any other day I hope to myself it wouldn't be so scary, but it would be. I'm just too easy to scare, though, so I guess that opinion really isn't all that reliable. I've been standing here for ten minutes, just listening, almost praying someone will notice me, but at the same time, eager to become invisible and dissolve into the paneling that lines the hallways.

I am a horribly undecided girl, but…even undecided girls have to start somewhere. With a shift of my weight, my fingers curl around the door handle, and then suddenly, I am exposed.

Time slows itself in the host club room as I stand in the door, taking it in.

In a flurry of rose petals I blink in the fine lighting and look into this new world, somewhat confused.

It's…well…

"Pink?" I feel the words leave my mouth as my head tilts to the side, staring around me. Everywhere, from the windows to the floors, it is pink in every shade imaginable. From deep blushing magenta to the pale color of seashells, it is _pink_.

Ribbons of it, cascades of sheer gauzy fabrics and all of it dotted by huge yellow roses that sit with dainty hands and glistening platinum smiles as they converse and snack and do all the things girls are known and well for.

And for a reason I can't exactly comprehend, but something Nao-chan described as "_being in the moment", _I find it unnervingly attractive. Perhaps it is the heavy odor of flowers in the air, or the way the lighting hits everyone and they _glow_. I have not known people to glow before, but in this room, it seems as though anything is possible. Or at least plausible.

It suits itself, in a peculiar way, these strange things.

"Ah…what have we here?" I am instantly snapped out of my reverie and come face to face with a very blonde boy, standing across the room, a gentle smile on his face. He puts his hand on his chin and smiles more and I know it is Suoh-kun, but I'm quite certain he does not know me.

"She's cute." I turn my head to the right and liquid gold stares at me from beneath dark lashes, mouth twisted in a devilish smirk. I feel myself take a step backwards and bump against something.

"Very…cute." Another whip of my head and I'm met by the same Cheshire grin only, this time it's a bit softer in the edges, but otherwise indistinguishable from the other. I feel light headed as they close on me, identical faces in my view.

"_So, do you think we're cute too?"_ I can't say the words as my mouth hangs open and Suoh-kun is instantly in frame, shoving them away.

"Away with you! Unscrupulous devils! Such boldness! Girls are fragile, and this one…" he pauses and cups my chin with his slender fingers, "This one is already far too scared to play your elementary games." I gaze up at him like a strung fish and my eyes widen in alarm as he comes at me from a lower angle.

"So…shall you come inside, little china doll?" I blink and touch my cheek softly, on the side that is unoccupied by his hand.

"I...um…well…" I am blushing I can feel it, but his amethyst eyes are so glimmering and incandescent it is hypnotic and my words fumble more than they should be. He hoods his eyes a fraction.

"Well?"

"Y-you…you help girls, don't you? Girls that…that…can't exactly…" His brow furrows in somewhat of surprise as I continue to babble in incoherent, fragmented, phrases and he steps back a little.

"Girls who can't speak in complete sentences?" He says with enough interest that the rest of the hosts are looking over, as well as most of the customers. A pair of Armani glasses glimmer unexpectedly in the light and reflect off of the pink atmosphere, making me almost stunned.

"With what would you require our services, princess Hoshiko?" The voice is coffee smooth as Tamaki scratches his head, trying to make sense of my dribble, and I set eyes on a boy with black hair and ebony eyes. He is smiling wryly at me, almost frightening in its glee.

"I…I was told that the Hosts helped girls who have troubles…and I…I have a very large trouble." I say softly and I look up at the proclaimed King of this establishment, almost pleading. The two twins from before edge forward, curious, and I suddenly realize that I might be acting very bold…perhaps, services are not directly acquired, perhaps you must win favor or points or some other system of merit before service is offered! My cheeks go fiery as I continue, Tamaki-kun and the boy he called Kyoya staring at me very intently, as though I might say something incredibly amazing at any given moment.

"I want to tell someone…that I'm very…well…g-" Suddenly, behind us there is a loud clamoring and many girls sit up in anticipation. I feel a rush of air as the door opens behind my back and the sound of skipping steps and a heavier tread enter the room

"Honey-kun!" One shouts and I turn around, only to come face to face with a very short boy I know rather well.

"Hoshiko-chan?" Mitsukuni stops short of the threshold to the room and looks at me, troubled, and out of the corner of my vision, Takashi-kun…stops as well.

I focus on Mitsukuni's face; his sweetness, his happy smile, his caramel eyes lit up in confusion at seeing me. I smile weakly, eyes crinkling in embarrassment.

"H-hello, Mitsukuni!" I say softly and he blinks, face melting into a familiar smile.

"What are you doing here Hoshiko-chan? Do you want to have cake with me? Did you come to see me today?" I hold up my hands defensively. Mitsukuni. Mitsukuni…and Takashi behind him, standing with his hands in his pockets, he looks nice today. I can smell him, as usual. He always smells like the outdoors, but in the good way. Like the way the sheets smell when our housemaid dries them outside. Clean linens. That's what Takashi smells like. Focus. Focus Hoshiko. If you don't, you'll see his face and then Kami knows what will occur.

I shake my head, unable to divert myself for much longer in the face of the enemy, tears already starting to leak from my eyes. My voice is becoming thick with words that are pent up, pushing against my lips, and I know that if I don't leave soon, something horrible will happen and I'll end up upset, but not in the good way.

These feelings…they make me…very sad.

"I…I was just stopping by, perhaps, I'll um…come tomorrow!"

"But you just got here, don't you at least want to sit down for a moment? Seems silly, coming all this way just to leave." The new voice is soft, surprisingly feminine as I open my eyes and turn back around, hands falling back into the folds of my yellow dress.

"Ah…" my words fall short and I realize that I'm staring into a huge pair of doe-like eyes. My head stops as I gaze into the pretty face of the Host before me, their head tilted to the side, eyes blinking.

"You came to have a host, didn't you? Or at least to talk to one, shouldn't you follow through if that's what you meant?" I am sucked into the face my head nodding, and then all of a sudden, a tear escapes the edge of my eyes and the Host's brow furrows in a troublesome way.

"Are you crying?" Suddenly, everyone's eyes are on me and I feel myself start to give way. Suoh-kun comes over again and looks into my face, and then he becomes concerned.

"You are crying, aren't you? Are you alright..." he trails off and looks at Mitsukuni, who only smiles sadly.

"Hoshiko-chan." He repeats and my throat closes up and Suoh-kun looks at me tenderly.

"A star? What a pretty name, but why is this star falling into tears?" I shake my head, wiping my eyes hastily. This is bad. This is bad.

"I'm not crying!" I say, though my voice breaks and it sounds too high for even _my_ small body. I start shaking my hands as well and laughing nervously, "I'm just…um…yes, well, I have business to take care of, so um…yes I'll be…you know, going now!" Everyone stares at me as I fumble for the door, unable to open it properly in my distress.

And then, suddenly, with the fluidity of someone who is confident in every motion, a pale hand opens the door for me and I look up into the face I didn't want to see right now.

"Here." He says softly, and the door swings open, but I'm frozen. All this time I've been trying so hard not to think about him, but now.

He's done it again…he's been kind to me, he's done something nice for me, tried to help me.

The tears well up in my eyes as I stare up at him.

"Ah!" I cry, and then suddenly, I am not able to hold it in.

"AHHH!" I wail, covering my hands with my face, "Ah…Ahhh!" Tears pour out of my eyes like rivers, a horrible, knee-jerk reaction to seeing his handsome face staring at mine, the way whenever I see him, I just can't help it.

I fill up to the very, very tip top. I can't help it. I want to tell him how happy he makes me, how when I see him I remember his kindness and I just want to do one thing, the only thing I've wished I could do.

I see his face, and I want to say:

_"Thank you."_

For everything. For being kind to me. For letting me be allowed to see you, for being here every day.

And for so much more.

* * *

I am still sobbing as I run from the host club room.

I enter the bathroom with a clatter, turning on the taps and immediately splashing my face with water. After a moment, my shoulders stop shaking and I stop heaving for breath, but I look in the mirror and my face is still horribly puffy and red and not attractive in the least bit.

"You're hopeless." I say to myself in the mirror.

"Look at you, a senior in the most prestigious high school in the country and you can't stop crying." I wipe my eyes with one of the towels, nuzzling my face into the soft terry cloth.

"He'll never understand if I can't even tell him. He probably…he probably thinks I hate him. No, he's convinced. I just…I just wish I could tell him. How much he makes me feel so glad."

"Then you should. It's always best to tell your feelings in a straightforward manner." I raise my head suddenly and look in the mirror, frozen. The Host from before is peering into the bathroom with doe-like eyes before stepping in, hands held casually at his sides.

"Hi, we didn't get a proper chance to introduce ourselves. I'm Haruhi Fujioka, freshman." He smiles at me, his hand extended and I stare at his open palm. It's delicate and rather soft looking, so when I turn around I'm almost hesitant to touch it with my own fingers, but I do, because it's polite, and he has followed me all the way here. I smile weakly.

"Um…I'm…Hoshiko. Hoshiko Yuzumari, senior." He nods and opens the door to the bathroom and beckons me to follow him. Its then that I realize that he heard everything I said, and as soon as I exit the bathroom (as I've now come to realize that…he has…followed me in…) I find myself rather, uncomfortable, staring around at the host club (minus Takashi-kun and Mitsukuni respectively).

"Here she is. I don't know why you made me follow her, it's obvious she wanted to be alone senpai." The boy…Haruhi, goes to stand near the twins from before, but they are too busy looking at me to really pay much attention.

"Miss Hoshiko, may I ask, and do not fear that you need to be discreet, but did Mori-senpai do anything to harm you? You reacted rather violently, and Hunny-senpai has informed us that you have this kind of reaction every time you see him." Suoh-kun eases forward and I blink rapidly, and then, suddenly, as though a switch has turned, I begin to laugh.

"Oh…oh my!" I giggle, and they all stare at me like I'm crazy, which to an extent, I probably am. As I giggle Suoh-kun swallows nervously and turns to the ebony-haired one from before, Kyoya. He pushes his glasses up smoothly and takes a step towards my still laughing body.

"Hoshiko-senpai, I fail to see the humor here." I stop laughing at his seriousness and smile a little with a passing chuckle, a blush dusting my cheeks, eyes half opened as I stare at the ground, embarrassed.

"No…no it isn't, and I'm very sorry, but it's…it's just so absurd." I look up into the bright faces of the Host Club and let the breath ebb away from my lungs, "Takashi-kun has never been anything except friendly and kind to me…but it's that behavior that makes me so emotional I suppose. I don't really…well…you see…"

"Spit it out already, this is getting tedious." One of the twins says in a rough voice and his brother looks at him sharply.

"Hikaru, that's hardly the kind of way to talk!" Haruhi interjects, his small voice equally pointed in tone. I cough a tiny giggle into my hand, a nervous habit I've picked up when under pressure, "But honestly, it would be nice if you could just tell us." I lick my lips in apprehension as Haruhi turns back, his expression slightly less violent and a bit more deadpan than before. I bob my head accordingly and take a deep breath.

"Since middle school I've had this problem. Whenever I see Takashi-kun, I just can't stop crying. It's like all my emotions get to be too much and I can't control them anymore…but it isn't because I hate Takashi-kun. Not at all," Tamaki-kun looks at me with respect as I speak and I feel myself spurred on a little more than before as the words come tumbling quietly out of my mouth.

"It's because…because I've had such trouble, and it's silly because, I should feel nothing but content. I mean, honestly, I'm richer than most of the world, I have two parents that look after me and a Sister I love very much, but…for some reason I end up feeling very lonely. Especially in Middle School, when Sister moved away. But, Takashi-kun, he's always been so kind, and it's almost as if…as if he understood that I was struggling and he always did small things to help me…so whenever, whenever I see him…"

"All your feelings come out at once." I look up suddenly and Tamaki-kun is gazing at me knowingly, "It's not because you hate him, but rather, you like him too much, correct?" I nod softly and look at the marble beneath our feet.

"But there's one problem…I've never thanked him. Not once. Every time I try, I start getting hysterical. That's all I wish for. Before graduation…just once, I'd like to thank him. Really thank him for being my friend, even though I've caused him nothing but trouble."

The group is silent as I speak, and I continue to stare at the marble, touching a corner of it with my polished shoe.

"I've tried so hard, but I'm running out of time. So when I heard that you…you help girls…I…I…I had to come." My last sentence is a whisper and I feel my heart inflating, just a little as I speak.

"I don't know what we can do for you." I feel my hands clench in my skirt, the feeling instantly evaporating as Tamaki-kun continues, "But don't fear…we will try anything to help you. It'll be complicated, seeing as Mori-senpai is one of our own, but…we'll definitely try."

I can feel myself bowing, waves of relief coursing through me as I bend myself in half in front of the chairman's beautiful son.

"Thank you." I whisper, a tears hitting the marble below me, the feeling now rival to any feeling I've ever had before.

"_Thank you_."

* * *

_(POV Change)_

"Kyoya?" The host king walked slowly beside his friend as they exited Ouran.

"Hai, Tamaki." The brunette said vaguely, checking an email on his phone for a brief moment before shutting it with a snap. The blonde looked up to the sky, watching the sun drift behind clouds of pink and white and orange.

"Who is she? I'm sure you know." Kyoya smirked and sighed.

"She's been going to Ouran all her life. She has a very successful older sister named Mai Yuzumari who married into the family of the richest shipping heir in Japan. Her parents are very wealthy respectfully, though an older pair. I've met them once or twice at my Father's business Galas. They are decent people."

Tamaki smiled to himself.

"She is a good girl Kyoya. I don't think she means any harm, do you?" Kyoya shrugged and stood beside his car, watching as Tamaki stood beside his own.

"I doubt if her motives are bad Tamaki, but I don't doubt that there is more to this than her simply wanting to say thank you."

* * *

**Haha, I have updated for the love of all that is awesome!**

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**Leave a comment!**

**xoxo,  
Spoons**


	3. Tick Tock

**Sorry it took forever!  
The next chapter will be a bit longer, yeah?!**

**Please enjoy!!**

**xoxo,  
Spoons**

**Crybaby!**

...Chapter Two...  
_  
Tick Tock_

Sitting in the plush chairs, surrounded by several handsome men, it was easy to be unnerved.

However uncomfortable I felt though, I managed to suppress it, taking a sip of the tea provided and watching as they surveyed me like a bird on display.

"Perhaps…in order to best assess your predicament…" the one with black hair, the one called Kyoya, began to speak, clicking his pen against the clipboard he held in his hands. His leg was crossed sharply over the other and his glasses weren't catching the light anymore, allowing all the smooth expanses of his skin to show through the thin black frames. "…it would be best if we could get to know you better." Tamaki-kun nodded along in agreement, looking at me with something akin to innocent excitement.

"Yes, please do Princess Hoshiko. You seem like a very interesting girl." I blushed a little at the name and put my cup down carefully, hands folded in my lap.

"Well…where would you like me to begin?" I asked quietly, to which Kyoya sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a flex of his long finger. When I am with this boy I feel as though I am a subject for test; some kind of experimental drug that should properly trialed before being given over to the general public.

Delicately handled, but with enough force to react. I have this intense feeling that this boy would be an excellent doctor…or at least a pharmacist.

"At the beginning preferably." He said dryly, breaking my thoughts. I bobbed my head in accordance, fingers fidgeting.

"Well…I've lived here all my life…" I started, still unsure. Kyoya wrote something down quickly and looked up at me, face unreadable.

"Your parents?" He asked curtly and I blinked. More writing; chicken scratch, slurred characters. Short-handed for methodical and personal use; he is a very, _very _practical young man I realize suddenly as he scribbles.

"My parents are never home." I responded, almost automatically. "My Father is away on business often and Mother…Mother doesn't care for me very much." The one to my farthest left, Haruhi, looked troubled.

"How is that possible? You're her child aren't you?" I could feel my face twist into some kind of smile and I tapped my hand methodically on the wooden arm of my chair, tracing the patterns etched into it.

"Yes. I am…but, Mother and I are very different. She finds me a pest, but I suppose it's true…anyway, she never really stayed around when we were younger, and now she almost never sets foot in the house. Whenever she does, she only gets bothered and ends up yelling, so it's better I suppose."

Haruhi looked so severely unconvinced I could only blink.

"That's no excuse…." He said with force, and then, as if recollecting a dream she looked off to the side, "A child should always be with their mother. It's the best thing." Suddenly, one of the twins batted his hand into the air.

"Don't mind her. He has a Mother complex." He said

"Hikaru, that is hardly the way to talk." Tamaki-kun reprimanded, leaving me to continue staring at each of them in turn. Kyoya's brows knitted together for a fraction of a second, like for one brief suspension in time he was very weary of it all until he turned to the four of us on one side of the seating arrangement, eyes flitting towards Haruhi.

"Haruhi-kun," He said, stressing the suffix, "It isn't as rare as you might find for an upper class family to have certain levels of," He paused, weighing his words. Tamaki-kun was looking sadly at me, his face friendly, but still sorrowful. Kyoya blinked, "courteous detachment. With the surplus of servants and other such, it would be inconveniencing for most parents to waste time bonding with their children, as is the case with your own I assume, Hoshiko-senpai." I nodded surely, agreeing with totality that made my insides heat, but ignored patiently. It was simple; it was just the way it was at my house.

"Sister took care of me when I was little. She and I were very close." I said, the smile I tried to hide behind a façade of indifference creeping back across my face. Sister was a delicate topic these days; She had gotten married, and I, I had stayed behind.

"What of now? Do you still speak often?" I shook my head.

"Sister grew up a while ago, and I suppose I'm still getting there!" I laughed, but the sound came out far more bitter than even I would have expected, hanging in the air above our heads and clouding my thoughts for a few moments. Kyoya clicked his pen again.

"I see." I woke from my temporary daydream and picked up my cup. He surveyed his work carefully, adding this and that, pausing to wipe away a speck of something on the white corner of his sheets. "Hoshiko-senpai, this may seem forward but, is there any tension in your household? Any internal conflict that could produce such a …violent… reaction." Kyoya chooses his words so carefully; he weighs them all the same though, his voice completely and utterly even as he asks the one question I've never been asked in my entire life.

"Basically," he clarifies, as if I am not understanding, "I wish to know if there is any kind of emotional trigger that perhaps has tied itself to Mori-senpai. He's obviously done nothing to hurt you, and though your explanations of your admiration of him are logical, it doesn't seem out of the question that something else entirely could be causing this…" He stops and looks at me, nudging at his glasses once more. He smiles gently, but the very bottom of his eyes squint just so; the scientist is merciful to its subject, but only when it complies.

I can't find the words I want to say; they freeze to my tongue and I'm left standing.

"No one's…no one's ever asked me …" I whisper softly; eyes sift to me and Kyoya only places his pen delicately on the surface of his note book, his eyes mesmerizing, like those of a snake.

He waits, as if baiting the trap.

"Of course, you realize, this is all to help you in the best ways we can. We never do anything _half_ way, Hoshiko-senpai." Suddenly, I jump as Tamaki-kun, his face nervous, laughs slightly.

"Kyoya, honestly!" He starts, running a pleasured hand through his beautiful blonde hair. His eyes close as he stands, holding his hand out to me, "Did he scare you? Sorry!" He laughs, this time a little easier. I blink and put my cup to the side, the china clinking as I realize my hands are shaking.

_"Yes."_ I say, _"Of course…our time is up…"_

* * *

That night, wrapped in my bed, hair spread across the pillow, I can only reanimate the conversation with the snake-like boy. He is so dangerously charming; and I realize slowly that I have never allowed myself to let someone wheedle their way so far down without my permission. Somehow, Kyoya was about to make me say things I'd never dreamt of saying with only a few words. It frightened me.

Was I really that transparent? Was it all so easily apparent that I wasn't as solid as I seemed? I'd always been aware my insides were the soft, tender, easily pulled consistency of cotton. The same empty fluff that comprises stuffed animals…but I'd never had someone almost pull at the seams of my careful stitching before. Not without my understanding, and I certainly hadn't understood at the time.

My eyes squint shut tightly and I bury my head into the pillows and blankets with a heavy sigh, the city lights just barely leaking in through the crack in my drapes. I smile slightly to myself, pushing the scary thoughts away.

Today, Kana-san arranged for my dinner again; I'm too nervous to ask myself, but Kana-san, she seems to understand that. She smiles at me a lot, and calls me 'Hoshiko-chan' and brushes my hair for me after I get out of the tub.

Kana-san is the newest servant we've had in a very long time, or so she's said. She's very young, and very beautiful, and took me very much by surprise.

One day, after I had returned from school alone, she was there, waiting, watching me with very intense scrutiny and after a moment of staring at each other she broke into this huge smile.

"There's no way!" She laughed, coming up to me, all the other women who run our house peeking around from their places, out of sight, "There's no way someone as adorable as you could be as spoiled as all these women say!" With a heavy blush (the heaviest I've probably ever had), I stumbled over my words of intense gratitude, but Kana-san only waved me off with another one of her blinding smiles.

"Now, I hear that you like Soba noodles, is that true?" I stared at her trying to understand. Was it a trick?

"I…b-but only on New Years!" I cried, and Kana-san in her pretty little uniform only laughed.

"We have this whole big house to ourselves! Who says we can't all have Soba! You like it don't you? And you're the Madame of the house, so what you say goes!" She looked at me, her dark eyes glistening. I swallowed. No one, no one had ever greeted me like this before.

But Kana-san, she always greets me when I get home now. She always goes on about how my parents are awful because they never spend any time with me, and while she brushes my hair she asks about this and that, and talks about her fiancé 'Kiku-kun' and all sorts of things, like how one day she wants to be a singer at a big hotel in New York City.

Kana-san, she makes me smile so much my mouth hurts sometimes.

The other women in the house don't typically talk to me. They, like my Mother, find me a pest, and spoiled. Mura-san especially; but Mura-san doesn't really like anybody. She has a very formidable face and very tightly-wound grey hair and she walks very quietly. She has a tendency to sneak up on me, and in a house full of no one, this is quite an easy task, especially if I'm absorbed in something.

Another little sigh comes from my lips as I think about my large and empty house, quite aware I am the only one in my family occupying a bed that night, for the third week in a row. Father came home briefly, a two day stop before going to California when he returned from Seoul. Business is going well, or so he tells me, but Father tends to be dishonest around me. He brought home so many new dresses I thought my closet was going to explode.  
Papa always brings home something for me, beautiful, priceless things. He always brings them and puts a card (because often, I do not receive them until after he is gone due to shipping).

_'For my favorite daughter.'_ That is typically what Father puts, and I always smile, and thank him profusely over the telephone, and then he disappears into his business suits and friends and I do not see him for weeks, sometimes even months.

When Papa looks at me, he always looks guilty.

When Mama looks at me, all I see is something called contempt. She shouts a lot, and when I was younger she didn't like it when I touched her. She would bat my hands away and hand me over to my Sister. The funny thing is, I love Mama very, very much and for the life of me, I could never really stay away from her. I always latched onto her dress or tried to hold her hand or climb into her lap. Anything to be close to her. She smelled nice and she was always so pretty.

Mother is very beautiful; she is the most beautiful woman I think I've ever seen. She has slanted eyes and glossy brown-gold hair, the shimmery color of tortoise shells. She has always looked so young, and when they stand next to each other, she and Sister look almost like twins, and not a Mother and Daughter. I don't look like Mama at all. I look like my Father, and something else; I believe my Father's mother, even though I've never met her. Mother wears designer dresses and burgundy lipstick and when I see photographs of her she stops smiling around the time I turned five. Before then, Mama always smiled very wide at me and called me "Hoshiko" and dressed me up like a doll when Sister was at school.

But somewhere, Mama stopped smiling and Papa stopped kissing her when he came home from work and they both started traveling and leaving Sister and I together in our very big house. I went to school; I met people like Naomi and all sorts of friends. I met Takashi. But until she left, I always loved Sister the very most of all. Sister was always there, no matter where Mama or Papa may have been. She was _always _there, and Sister promised me, when I was very, very little that she would never leave.

_"Hoshiko, do you know I named you?" _My eyelids start to droop as I recall the conversation; the same story I begged her to tell me whenever I got the want for it, like some children cling to a blanket. Sister, who smelled like flowers and sunshine would sit next to me on my big bed and braid little sections of my hair.

_"I named you Hoshiko because I know that Mama had a baby that died. A little baby boy, but then God gave us you! He gave us a little star-baby to replace the one that Mama lost." _I can remember so well, the feel of the blankets luring me back in time when it was just Sister and I and nobody else. Not even Takashi-kun.

_"So I named you 'star child', just so I could remember. Mama even let me, just like she lets me take care of you and dress you up and play with you! Mama doesn't know you're a star-baby yet Hoshiko, but that's ok, because I'll always be your Sister." _I loved that story; I loved knowing I was a gift for Sister. A gift from God, or a star, or whatever she decided to call it.

I loved to know I fit in somewhere; that I was there for a reason. On my nightstand, I can barely see the burgundy ribbon hanging from its hook in my jewelry box, the one that hasn't left my head since my first day of kindergarten when Mother insisted I get a haircut. My hair had been cut so short all I could do was cry, especially when Sister looked at me and laughed and said I looked like a little boy.

But Sister fixed it.

_"See Hoshiko! You're the cutest one now! And everyone else is going to be soooo jealous because look what your Sister gave you!" _

The ribbon's satin surface caught a streak of light from a passing car or something else and I fell asleep, remembering Sister and the way it felt to know I was a star, the clock on the wall ticking and ticking until I couldn't hear it anymore.

The question from earlier rang out through my head...and suddenly, I found the answer.

Sister too, had found me just a pest in the end.

* * *

Takashi woke with a jolt.

It had been a while since he'd slept so hard, but then again, it had been a long time since he'd thought about _her._ She was the one with eyes like black slate, hair the deep color of tortoise shell and that way of looking through someone when she spoke to them.

"_If you see that child…" _

Mori's eyes narrowed a fraction, recalling the conversation that had occurred so long ago he'd practically forgotten it. It was the only thing he'd ever truly been asked to do outside of hosting…and why he continued to do it was still beyond him.

With a silent breath, he lay back, collecting his thoughts, organizing them patiently until all the components fit back together in their proper settings. The woman and her hawkish smile and her strange, strange words (so surprisingly tender) settled back into the shelf on the back of his mind.

He was already beginning to forget again, the dream dissipating at the odd hour of the night.

Still, the feeling lingered. Why? Why did he continue to do what he did? He wasn't forced, he hadn't even been properly asked at the time.

It had been more like a silent expectation though…something he felt as though she'd know if he ever stopped. She'd know and he'd be subjected to the eyes that looked through him when they'd spoken.

'Perhaps…' he thought drowsily, sleep pulling insistently on his brain, dulling the sensation and lulling his aching muscles. He'd trained especially hard today; he'd been rather distracted as of late, and somehow, knowing that the Host Club was speaking to her without him being there made him feel uneasy.

She wasn't too good with people…

'Perhaps Tamaki read the situation…' He continued, mind sifting as his eyes pulled shut, finally.

Perhaps it was seeing her face when she cried, and slowly realizing that those tears did not fully belong to him. That they belonged to someone else, probably many different people…but it wasn't so much even that. Maybe it was because she still remained convinced that they were _his_ tears; that she was still too lost in the lies to understand that she didn't cry for him that Takashi still looked at her and couldn't be so angry as he was hurt.

But not really for himself.

Perhaps it was seeing a woman like that ask him to do it.

The one, unforgettable little sentence hanging like a tapestry on his brain.

_"If you ever see that child…be kind to her, tell her that she'll be alright, because I can't be her Mother anymore**."**_

* * *

**Kyoya you cunning you! (And Tamaki, you do know how to phase out awkward moments my darling love!) I feel as if I can never write an honest Kyoya, even though his development as character in the actual series has proved him otherwise!!  
****So we see that perhaps Takashi's obligation is more of...well, an obligation than just him being his wonderful self.**

**Did you catch the allusion to Anime episode 13? Whoever can find it gets something special!**

**And Hoshiko mama-drama! ****But wait? Who was the real speaker?**

**xoxo,  
Spoons**


	4. Subliminal Messaging

**Hey-ey.  
The song "she moves in her own way"  
is officially stuck in my head :]**

**xoxo,  
Spoons**

**Crybaby!**

...Chapter Four...

_Subliminal Messaging_

"The way I see it, there's really not a whole lot we can do for your situation. But not that it's impossible you see, it's just difficult because without practicing you'll never get more comfortable, but by practicing we're only alienating the two of you more…" I stare, wide-eyed as Tamaki-kun goes on and on, using elaborate hand gestures and displays, my mind tracking his movements with hawkish intensity. It's been a week. A whole week and it feels just as unsure as it did the very first day I showed up.

"Basically," The brash twin says (I have come to somehow tell that one is far more honest than the other), "We're gonna hand you over to the only person we think we can help you because frankly, we're desperate." His twin snickers softly as I blush and Haruhi looks impassive.

"You called Renge didn't you?" He says and Tamaki stops his ongoing monologue to stare at him for a moment.

"Yes…is that..bad?" He asks hesitantly, dissolving his outlandish actions for a more hesitant, goopier mess of a person. My brow furrows as I watch the exchange, Haruhi-kun's deadpan expression becoming increasingly more apparent. Their interactions are so awfully confusing; bipolar in the most polite of senses, although shortly following this revelation, Haruhi-kun voices what was already going through my head.

"I think it's ridiculous." He states evenly and Tamaki-kun whimpers.

"Why Haruhi? Why are you so hateful to Daddy?" Haruhi turns his head away, blatantly ignoring the small cheeps of astonishment from the melted Tamaki.

"Because you act like an idiot."

Kyoya, who has been observing as he mostly does, moves to interject before I can say anything, but suddenly the floor beneath us vibrates and suddenly, the great rotors of a turning motor begin to kick on, the floor splitting in a circular seam before a pronounced lift is pushed up from the ground and a top it is seated a very beautiful foreign girl with a huge pink bow on top of her head. Now, to better understand my shock, you have to comprehend that I have been taking extensive care to avoid other people when visiting the Host Club. Special arrangements have been made while Takashi-kun or Mitsukuni-kun are occupied so that we can meet uninterrupted, and for the most part the illustrious third music room is nothing more than a large and unused space when it's only the members and myself.

But now, there is a very strange girl, perched on what appears a teacher's desk with a black board, rotating up from the floor.

In front of a girl who's easily surprised and scared by an unexpected spider's web or a piece of paper blown across her path.

"W-what on earth!" I find myself crying, tripping backwards as the girl settles her piercing stare on me, standing to point an accusing finger in my direction.

"YOU!" She says, her keening voice carrying across the space, echoing back in my ringing ears. I point at my chest, almost not even believing the antic going on before me and the twins are suddenly on either side of my shoulders, rather engrossed in the whole situation.

"Your guinea pig madame!" They chant, shoving me forward again and saluting. The girl nods in satisfaction and steps down from the platform, shoes clacking on the marble.

"At ease!" She barks and the twins let their arms go limp, watching with devilish smirks on their features. For some reason, the whole room has gone darker than usual and they are brandishing two flash lights dangerously.

The torches click on and off and Tamaki berates them, going on about how this is "No time for such allusion to black magic!", but I'm too caught up in the girl who's stepping forward.

"You're Hoshiko-senpai, the resident and legendary possessor of the 'Tears of Moe', right?!" She fires and I find my words fumbling.

"L-l-legendary?" I ask and she puts her hands on her hips, one of them going up to gesture in a most dignified manner.

"OF COURSE! The flames of Moe are so strong in you that it reduces you to tears! Naturally it should spread like a love-induced fire to the rest of the beautiful girls in attendance! We were _there_ after all!" My face goes cherry red and I stutter unintelligibly, realizing that latest display of 'passion' or whatever she called it for Takashi-kun had been in fact viewed by the general public.

"I think you've got it all wrong! I just want to say th- !" She cuts me off, her hand going up, slicing the air as I try to persuade her otherwise. She lowers her chin, eyes level with me.

"The first step is denial kid!" She snaps her fingers and out of nowhere the black board appears and within seconds I am forced into a simple classroom desk. The slide-projector she is now seated at begins to flip at rapid speeds and several host members (the twins specifically) are gathered round, watching with bated breath. The girl, who I have inferred is Renge at this point, settles onto her stool, clicks a small remote and suddenly my picture has appeared across the screen. It's nothing special, just me standing with my arms at my sides and smiling unsurely, yellow dress making me appear an over grown daffodil.

"This is you." She says, using a laser pointer to emphasize her point; the red beam darts to the bottom of the projected image, highlighting the word beneath it, "You are most definitely the 'crybaby' type." Before I can ask what that even means she switches the slide and I am faced with a surprisingly adorable picture of Mitsukuni waving and hugging his bunny under one arm.

"NOW." She continues, standing to pull a rod from her sleeve and point to Mitsukuni-kun's smiling face, "While it is true that Honey-senpai is in fact a loli-shota type, it can also be subdivided."

_Click_.

A candid shot of Mitsukuni-kun in tears.  
"Honey-senpai due to his appearance and child-heartedness can also be categorized as a 'crybaby' type, which brings me to the next slide."

_Click._

I turn slightly over my shoulder to find that the twins are taking diligent notes, Haruhi-kun is quite uninterested and Tamaki is just watching, this confused, yet enthralled look on his face, as if he's about to raise his hand and ask a question. I cannot see Kyoya…he has somehow (with a sense of great foreboding) dissolved into the shadows around him.

They almost surround him like a coat and crown…but I am certain my eyes are paying tricks on me as Renge continues on.

"Continuing, it can be said that a Crybaby, no matter how denominated that might be, has three main components."

She slaps her stick against a close up (candid, yet again) of my crying face.

"A beautiful tear-filled expression…"

_Slap._

"A child-like appearance…" There is a comparison shot of me and a girl in an Ouran elementary uniform who is also wearing a ribbon in her hair. I finger it subconsciously, unable to tear my eyes away. The resemblance is ridiculous. I'm not much taller and my hair has been styled the same way _since_ elementary school. Even my eyes give off the naivety of a little girl and not the senior I am.

_Click…slide…_

"And finally, a 'comforter' or someone they go to rely on! In Honey-senpai's case, this can be attributed to both Usa-chan _and_ Mori-senpai…but in your case…"

Takashi-kun flashes across the screen and my eyes automatically react, watering profusely. My nose sniffs and I take a breath, attempting to control myself. Renge watches, intrigued by the sight of me.

"Somewhere along the way Mori-senpai became both your trigger and your comforter, causing a severe inability for you to function in any social situation with him since your poor heart can't decide which to call him! And so, you're heart cries, unable to reach the verdict that is necessary for you to grow closer to the one you love!" She yells and the slide flips and my tears dissipate, as quickly as they've come.

I feel the chair shoot out from behind me.

"No." I say sternly, "That's not right…I …I don't know what you're trying to do here, but I'm…" I fight to keep my voice even, "I don't like Takashi. Not like that. I just want to tell him I'm grateful, and that's all. That's all." I stress. Renge comes over to the desk and leans on it, eyes fiery.

"You're a textbook case of a crybaby Hoshiko-senpai, and it's common fact that the crybaby always becomes hopelessly emotionally bound to the their comforter, and in this case you are terribly in love with Mori-senpai." I shake my head desperately.

"No. That's not it at all…" Renge smiles, treating it all as if it's one giant game. I feel my heart start to fizz in my chest. What am I? A toy for everyone? Do they really take my feelings so lightly? Does this _Host Club_ really think I'm so stupid as to subject what's the most important thing in the world to me to this kind of… kind of…humiliation?

"This isn't a game!" I cry suddenly and the room goes very quiet. I back out of my chair, "This isn't something I thought would be taken so lightly…I…I thought you were here to help girls! Not exploit their fragility!"

And like lighting, I am gone.

* * *

Renge, her face suddenly becoming sad, shuffles back.

"It's worse than I thought." She murmurs, and Kyoya scribbles something down.

"If she doesn't come back, then we shouldn't interfere. We've got too much to do anyway, what with the senior ball coming up in just two weeks…"

Tamaki, watching the door hang open, not even properly closed, looks at the marble dejectedly for a moment. Haruhi looks somewhat startled and even the twins appear surprised. Tamaki closes his eyes, before raising his head and opening them.

"We won't interfere." He sates plainly, "But…we will make her change her mind about us. We _are_ a company to help girls…and if we can't help Hoshiko-senpai the way we thought we could initially, then we will make it so some other way." He smiles softly.

"What are you thinking Tamaki-senpai?" Haruhi says quietly, for once unable to follow where his free mind has led him this time.

The man's grin grows.

"Perhaps it's more complicated than we thought, but I know that somehow we'll make one lonely star's wish come true. I think…maybe we've been to direct about this…it's time for a less obvious approach."

* * *

"Ne, ne! Takashi did you get that text too?" The young man blinked, seeing the screen of a pink cell phone abruptly shoved into his face. They were currently walking down the hall towards the Host Club Room (as a previous text had directed) when all at once the chime had sounded again in Mitsukuni's pocket (conveniently next to his ear) and flipped open after a brief scramble. Situated on his shoulders, Mitsukuni was flexing his toes as he thought, before thoughtlessly pushing the phone back into his pocket, Mori nodding silently.

"It says the senior ball's theme is going to be star-crossed lovers! There's even going to be some kind of contest! You think that'll be fun?" He continued, tapping Takashi's head rhythmically. The taller man really couldn't say. He didn't think much of dances or balls.

They weren't bad, but they weren't his favorite either. Even when he was younger, the Champion's Kendo Ball was always a pain no matter how much the status he gained made up for itchy suits and even itchier people.

It only meant two things; girls and dancing.

Both of which he found himself increasingly neutral and uninterested in as time wore on.

Mitsukuni wasn't deterred by his silence, still beating on his head as they walked, still thinking about this and that. He let his cousin remain in his head as the girl went passed them, obviously upset.

He knew if he saw, Takashi would just do what he always did and become concerned. Mitsukuni's little brow creased in his continued pensive state.

Did his cousin even knew how he really acted when the girl cried?

Could his cousin even see that face he made…

"I wonder what Tama-chan is up to this time." He said softly as they came to the staircase, thinking of the text and Hoshiko's distressed appearance. He smiled sadly to himself. "I hope Tama-chan understands what he's doing."

* * *

**Everything is moving along a little better, and a the Host Club silliness was soooo fun too write.  
What has Tamaki-kun got up his sleeves, yeah? Has Hoshiko-chan given up on the Host Club after only a week?**

**Will ANYTHING be solved?!?! haha. Such casual questions.../OTZ**

**Please R and R, i'd love you forever.**

xoxo,  
Spoons


	5. Oil and Water

**Oh my gosh. I am the worst.  
But now, school is out, so I'm  
back to being dedicated!!**

**  
Please pardon any typos.  
I'm too tired to fix anything right now!!!**

**:D**

**xoxo,  
Spoons**

**Crybaby!  
**  
...Chapter Five…

_Oil and Water_

I think, perhaps, there is a complete misunderstanding of wealth.  
It isn't cliché at all really.

You don't have to be poor to be happy; you don't have to be rich to be unsatisfied.  
Abuse comes in all shapes and sizes, and heartache doesn't care who you are, and those are two things I seem to know a lot about.

Don't get me wrong, my parents may fight, and my Mother may not be fond of me, but neither of them have really ever laid a hand me, maybe to bat my hands away or something, but never to actually_ hit_ me. No, not even my mother would do something like that. She's far too proper.

I don't know why this is all I can think about as I enter my empty home.; maybe its just the shock, maybe its my own internalization to fight when something tries to wheedle its way in. Self pity or something like that, I muse. At least I'm smart enough to realize I have the fatal flaw of coddling myself when I'm upset with these ideas of hurt and sadness, but I'm too lazy and stubborn to do anything about it.

I trudge up the stairs to the upper level of the house, my feet dragging. My face isn't swollen or red, I haven't even been crying. I don't usually cry when Takashi-kun isn't around, it's like, without him I don't remember how to as well as when he's there. A wall of concrete between me and all the things that make tears come out.

Kana-san is watching me, but she's not saying anything. Kana-san doesn't pry, and I'm very thankful for this. I enjoy solidarity. I can make it if I'm on my own…I'm very much used to it by now.

My bedroom is somewhat of a haven. It's very cluttered; I like picking up things and keeping them. Most of them are very ordinary; bottle caps, electronic store pens, pieces of paper, odd-looking stones or foreign coins. Mother calls it trash and Papa (who has barely seen my bedroom twice) only winced and called it charming. In truth, it was Sister who brought about the habit. When we were small she used to find things all the time and put them in a shoebox under her bed. When she left, the shoe box stayed, and so did all the habits she'd poured into it.

I shut my bedroom door quietly.

Sister poured a lot of things out when she left. She left them on the floor and in the walls, in the smell of her blankets and her clothes, the perfume on her bureau, her jewelry. It was like she had to leave it all behind, like she couldn't bear to bring it with her.

The very memories seemed to be painful, the objects themselves so distasteful she'd rather forget them than keep them for the sake of holding onto a part of your life. Sister even left me behind.

"_YOU CAN'T GO! YOU'RE ALL MINE! YOU PROMISED! YOU PROMISED!" I dragged at her skirts, I pulled and tugged and screamed and cried and sobbed. Sister, with her suitcases at the door whirled on me and grabbed my claw-like hands._I can't remember much of after that except crying.  
Screaming and crying and then silence. A great and aching silence.

Her palm collided with my cheek with such a heavy sting the very wind, all the breath in me, went catapulting out in a huge gasp.

"You are such a selfish little girl! A selfish, selfish little girl! I am not your Mother Hoshiko! Grow up!" But I couldn't say anything. The words were all gone. Gone, gone, gone. Any ounce of hatefulness, any ounce of contempt.

Because I couldn't cry anymore.

And it frightened me.

"She wasn't Sister then." I remind myself quietly, walking over to the photograph, the light masking the figures that sit on my dresser. My eyes narrow as I take in the tall, slender form of her _Husband _and my beautiful Sister. Even on printed paper she can still look through you while she speaks, and he is still ugly in all his beauty. The one that stole her, when she was perfectly mine and we were perfectly happy, and it was only the two of us. If it's anyone's fault for anything, it's _his_. He's the one that made her change. That made her hate me.

He's perfect; he smiles and is kind.  
I hate him. I hate him like I've never hated anyone.

I want to kill him. I want to hit him for taking away Sister.  
I scare myself as I slam the photo face-down on my dresser and suck in air through my teeth. I fall back on my bed, still wearing my puffy uniform and itchy stockings. With nimble fingers I unroll them and toss them onto my floor, bare toes feeling the warm carpet and curling into the thick braids of my huge rugs. I squeeze my eyes shut and press my fists into them until purple dots fly up and explode across my vision.

I shouldn't think that way, I should never _ever_ think that way. Sister is happy with Katsuya-sama. They are happy and I should be too.

"I shouldn't be so selfish." I whisper to the empty air, to my china dolls and fancy dresses. I open my eyes and stare at the canopy hanging above me. I am reduced to talking to a bedroom of _things_. I never invite friends over. I don't really go anywhere. I am always alone.

And unlike unsociable girls who bathe and revel in complete silence, I cannot feel like that.  
But it isn't unnerving; it is very, very sad.

I sit up, the blankets and sheets rustling. I can see my reflection in the standing mirror on the other side of the room, and I am quite unsure of what I see. I run a hand through my hair, practice a coy smile, tug my ribbon and look down at my very small chest.

I blush and cross my arms, falling back, only this time on my side and curling my legs up. The sheets tickle my nose and I inhale the smell of myself. I am very tired.

I want to give up. I am probably going to give up. I am giving up.

"I have been very selfish." I say again, only this time a little louder, like I was chiding a small child, who happens to be me. I bury my head into the blankets and furrow my brow, fighting at the weird sensation in my heart. So stupid.

"You're not stupid. You're not stupid at all! You don't want to get hurt that's all." The girl in the mirror is comforting me and I feel grateful I have her.

This whole _idea_, this premise that I could accomplish _anything_ was so ridiculous…it should be funny, I should be laughing, I should be crying.

I should be…something. Anything. I want to feel something. But I don't.

All I can hear in my head is the firm "I don't love him." Over and over and over.

"We don't love him. We don't love him like _that._" She echoes, helping me along.

When did I become so concerned with _not_ loving another person? Isn't it always supposed to be the other way around?

What could I possibly be afraid of?  
'You know. We know. It's alright. We can just stay here, it's safe here. We aren't going to talk about it. We won't ask questions, we don't have to remember.'

The mirror girl smiles at me and I roll over, away from her prying eyes. I squeeze my own shut.  
"Yes." I whisper.

The mirror girl only sighs and says "Its Sunday tomorrow. We should go out."  
But we'll just stay in.  
And it is all very, very sad.

* * *

Sunday morning comes and I breathe easier. I swing my legs, kicking them over the couch in my pajamas because I finished all my homework last night. I'm sitting upside down, watching a funny movie that isn't supposed to be funny but in fact very serious.

Our living area isn't normally occupied, but this Sunday I feel like putting my patient things to good use; they are such excellent listeners after all. So I turned on the TV and set about watching whatever was on, and all I got was the American Film that is so comedic in its sincerity. I like how the sounds of the TV fill up the rooms.

"Young Miss…"

The squeak that erupts from my mouth sends me over the edge of the couch and pulling myself off the floor, I can only grasp my heart through my shirt and blink at Mura-san with confusion.

How does she keep doing _that_?

"M-Mura-san…w-what is it?" Mura-san squints her eyes and I can almost see her head shake in distaste, the invisible reverberation of the clicking of her tongue bouncing into me and off again. She takes a shallow breathe and straightens, one hand smoothing her kimono.

"There is a _young_ _man_ here to see you…a certain Fujioka Haru-…" My eyes widen and I scramble around the couch staring at the elderly woman with instant anxiety.

"F-FUJIOKA-KUN?!" I shout, hands grabbing the side of my face. She purses her lips, lifts her chin with a haughty sniff of her nose.

"Honestly, Young Miss. Yes, Fujioka Haruhi is waiting your audience in the library…" While I hyperventilate she watches, her face covered in nothing but dissatisfaction, "Young Miss, you would do most well if you changed and made yourself presentable. Young Miss, if you Mother saw you in such a state…what on Earth would Madame even _say_." I swallow guiltily. Mura-san has always loved my Mother, and its always been there that her loyalties have lied, waiting and lurking in the shadows cast by my Mother's tall frame. When she speaks of Mother, even now that she hasn't set foot in the house for close to six months, she speaks of her so highly, so _fondly_. I hang my head a little and smile shyly.

"O-of course. Please tell Fujioka-kun that I'll be down momentarily."

"Very well Young Miss."

Mura-san moves aside to let me pass by her, and up the adjacent stairs in the next room, but as I leave, the telephone rings. Instantly, Mura-san has traveled to the low coffee table and the phone is cradled in her bony hand.

"Hai. Hai." She says indifferently, and as my hands grip the railings, half way to the second floor landing, I can hear her speak before there is a long pause and then her almost giddy voice.

"Ah, Madame! So good to hear from you…how is Moscow? Yes, Yes, the Young Miss is…well…the same…yes…Oh…Madame?" Suddenly, Mura-san's voice becomes low, and there is a low hiss of air. I am frozen, fingers turning white on the banister. Mura-san's frightening silence hangs in the atmosphere, and my chest feels tight. Rubbing my heart through the fabric I can feel the tense beats through the thin material.

"Madame…if…I…yes. Of course. Of course Madame…your room will be…prepared…" The phone rattles as she replaces it and my brow furrows. My heart is still beating erratically. Why did Mura-san sound so worried?

"If you are still listening Young Miss…your Mother is returning this evening."

I jump as Mura-san's voice, now strained and thin wrap around the staircase and ooze into my ears, waking me up. With a jump I run the rest of the way up the stairs, and rattle the portraits in the hall with the slamming of my door.

* * *

Smoothing down my dusty hair I clear my throat and walk into the library. Fujioka-kun is indeed there, seated at one of the chairs, hands folded on his lap…only…

"Fujioka-kun?" I blink, realizing just how _small_ he looks sitting on the plush furniture. He's very delicate for a boy. His shaggy head lifts and he smiles hesitantly.

"You have a very big library." I blush at his deadpan statement and walk over, sitting down slowly in the chair across from him, my ankles crossed, hands gripping the fabric of my dress.

"Ah…Yes…I collect books. My favorites are foreign poetry." I know I am speaking to fast. Why is my voice so loud? Why do I always sound _this_ awkward when people come over? "I-If you ever want to borrow one…" Fujioka-kun smiles light-heartedly.

"Thanks. I'll be sure to ask when I'm done studying for finals!" I shift in my seat and the silence drops off before Fujioka-kun clears his throat a little.

"You know, the reason I came was originally because I was supposed to be giving you this, or something silly like that." I look at the hand digging into his pocket and he pulls out a heavy black envelope scattered with crystal stars and swoopy, glittery handwriting. He holds it out to me and with hesitant fingers, I accept it, and I can almost feel all the books on the shelves peering over my shoulder as I turn it over in my hands.  
"Its next week, the Senior Ball. Apparently it's the standard thing here; for The Club at least." I blink at the parchment quality paper I've drawn from the inside, and I can hear my pulse thrum in my ears and my blood heat up.

"Tamaki-senpai really wanted me to tell you that whatever impression you got from us, we're really not that shameless, and we do want to help girls, so please don't give up on us." My lips part slightly and I look up at Fujioka-kun as he stops talking again, hands back to being folded on his lap.

"But that's not really all. In my opinion, he's going about this all wrong, but then again, he's kind of an idiot, so it happens." Haruhi's eyes lift and he stairs straight into mine. "Hoshiko-senpai, I don't know a whole lot about you, or even about Mori-senpai, but I know enough to understand that you two don't necessarily voice your feelings or what you want very often, do you?" I can't say anything. I just sit there, useless. Haruhi blinks and continues.

"I mean, its like, well, I guess I kind of get it." He rubs his knee softly, "When I first joined The Club I really hated it. I thought it was stupid…but I'd been alone for a really long time. I had my dad, and I was so used to just doing what I _needed_ to I had kind of forgotten what I _wanted_…What I'm trying to say is maybe, Hoshiko-senpai, you feel like you _need_ to say something to Mori-senpai to compensate for what you _want_? Tamaki-senpai is _always_ talking about what he wants, so he doesn't really get that. And what he needs is _what _Kyoya-senpai wants…and the twins, well I don't think they can really differentiate…" Haruhi-kun is starting to ramble now, and I would have laughed any other time at the natural air that surrounds him, but I can't. My fingers, still curled into the invitation, are numb.

"I…I…don't understand…" The words are so soft I don't even realize I've said them, but Haruhi-kun is so sweet. He only blinks, and thinks before trying to rephrase it.

"You've been alone a lot, too? Haven't you? Well, sometimes, when people are alone, we trick ourselves…" His voice breaks, as if he too is also understanding something he's been struggling with, "we trick ourselves we're ok. We all do it for different reasons. I do it so my Father won't have to worry, so that I can make my Mother proud…but Hoshiko-senpai, sometimes you don't know exactly what you should be doing until you're given it. I don't really know why you do it Hoshiko-senpai, but you really do deprive yourselves of chances at being really happy."

Haruhi's eyes are so level, so stern, it's almost frightening the amount of energy he pours out of his small body.

"I think you should take this chance with Mori-senpai. No. I think it's what you _have_ to do, which is even more that just needing or even wanting."

_"You're a selfish girl! A selfish, selfish little girl!"_

All at once, I twitch to life. No. I shouldn't want anything. Nothing at all. I'm fine, all alone. I'm absolutely fine. I don't want anybody to think I'm selfish.

I have everything. I don't need anything. I don't want anything.  
I'm happy. Perfectly happy. Fine. All alone, I'm fine.

"But you see," I say, and I wince at my voice. It's clear and cold and so aristocratic; the shield that my kind have if we have to use it, the barren wasteland of emotions the beautiful reserve where we can hide from the intruders that threaten our existence, our _everything's_. I smile stiffly.

"I don't need or want Takashi very much at all anymore. We're like oil and water, so different…so you see Haruhi-kun, I've decided that I don't even want to pursue it anymore."

Haruhi's face betrays no emotion, save for the barest glimmer of his eyes as he flicks them to the carpet. He smiles.

"Well then, I guess I'll be going then." He stands and I remain seated; he walks himself to the edge of the library. I know he can see me, my fingers gripping the arms of my chair, my eyes squeezed shut. Even with the back of my chair between us, there's no way he can't see. My whole body betrays me, my whole face is contorted in the lies I just said.

"But you know Hoshiko-senpai? Isn't it funny how oil holds up the water when it would otherwise sink to the very bottom of the cup?"

_You'll be alright…_

Yes. I'm alright. I'm alright

My fingers tremble.  
And the invitation becomes a crumpled ball in my hands.

* * *

**Did you like it? I think Hoshiko has a lot of goopy feelings to work out, but the ending will be a grande affair!  
Recent chapter special for Ouran were SOOOO cute! Ranka-san is so much like Tama-chan!! So cute!**

Please fave AND review!!!

**xoxo,  
Spoons**


	6. Comedy

**Crybaby!**

...Chapter Six…

_Comedy_

Mai Yuzumari put down the telephone with a heavy slam.

"How dare she! Oh, the _nerve_ of that woman!" She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. Her husband, sitting nearby, stood and put a soothing hand on her waist.

"What's the old bat up to now?" He asked with a sort of sad humor, expecting for his usually easily pleased wife to crack a smile. He was greeted with a frown; her deep red lips quirked downwards and she hugged herself and let out a short puff of air through her mouth.

"She's divorcing him. Just decided she was going to leave him, even though apparently she's been planning it for years." A pale, slender hand found its way to Mai's forehead, massaging gently as her husband stole a glance at the floor. "I don't understand it," She laughed dryly, "She has everything she wanted, and she still causes grief for that household…"

"How's your sister taking it?" He asked gingerly, unsure how his wife would respond. Mai stiffened and raised her eyes to the wall in front of her. Her mouth slipped into a soft smile.

"She doesn't know, naturally. But don't worry, she plans to break it gently over dinner." She moved out of his embrace and went across the room to the desk where he was previously seated, pulling out a small piece of stationary and its companion pen, tapping her lip thoughtfully before scribbling something down, obviously trying to distract herself. As she wrote, he could see the thoughts turn behind her head and he moved slowly towards the desk, leaning on it, eyebrows raised.

"Mai." He said softly. She let her gaze flutter from the paper to his eyes and she sighed, sitting up to push back her hair and sink into the leather seat. Her husband pressed forward further, forcing her to pay attention to him, "Mai, you have to do something about it. Haven't you had enough of these petty games? Honestly, she's almost graduated from high school. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life regretting the fact that you've missed out on the crucial parts of her life?"

Mai let her hand fall into her lap and closed her eyes, breathing in, and then opening them up again to reveal the slate grey that glimmered in the office's ambient lighting.

"She's still just a child. Her mentality is as naive as the day I left."

"Mai…" The woman looked away, as if to shield her pained expression, the tension that painted her face, crinkling her eyes and making her mouth twitch in discomfort.

"Everything I've ever done was to protect her, to shield her from all the things that will eventually shatter her little world…"

"That child thinks she can make it all on her own…but she has no idea. She has _no_ idea how alone she really is." She glanced up at her husband, smirking, instantly changing the subject. "Do you know I received a very interesting letter from her high school's resident bachelor's club? They want _me_ of all people to attend a graduation party. I'm sure my mother received the same invitation…"

"Your Mother isn't going to attend, we both know that Mai." Honda said coarsely, stepping back from the desk and his wife's dangerous, cat-like expression. He scratched his head tiredly and sighed, "All these years I've never understood it…she's such a good little thing. Any Mother would be lucky to have a daughter as sweet as that girl is."

Mai smiled.

"How funny you say that."

* * *

"Ehhh…That kid sure did leave in a hurry, didn't he? What did he say?" My fingers unhinge and I turn around, spying Kana-san with a tray full of sweet things and tea. I feel monsoons of relief wash over me as she comes and puts her handful down to reposition the chair Haruhi-kun was previously in and smooth out her apron. I don't answer her initial questions but Kana-san is a very 'in the moment' type person. She thinks it's better to simply go as life takes you, so she says what's on her mind and forgets things after only a short while, so by the time I'm formulating a proper reply she is already sitting across from me and preparing the light tea for two. Only now, she's replaced Haruhi-kun.

Sometimes Kana-san is very bold, even to me, even when we are good friends to one another.

"What do you have there Hoshiko-chan? A love letter maybe?" She chirps and I start shaking my head in violent protest.

"O-Oh No! N-not anything like that K-kana-san!" The invitation crumples farther into my fingers, poking at my skin and Kana-san just clucks her tongue and pours me a cup of tea.

"Ahhh…Young love! What I wouldn't give to be in high school and free as I please!" Kana-san pushes the cup farther onto the saucer and a little drop flecks the smooth surface. Instinctively, with her face still beaming, she wipes it with her pinky and passes it to me. My hands awkwardly dispel the invitation and I reach for it, accepting the warmth that passes into me.

"Why would you say that Kana-san? You and Kiku-san are very happy together." Kana-san just smiles dreamily and takes up her own cup of tea.

"Yes, but sometimes it's nice to revisit the days when you didn't think you'd ever get married to just one person. I'll have you know, I was quite coveted!" I smile into my tea.

I can believe that. If there's anyone in the world who I think is the luckiest, it's Kana-san. She is a bright, sunny person; she is like cosmos in a crystal vase in a tiny kitchen, the kind where you have to look at and smile without even thinking. She takes all your thoughts and all your attention, and as I've probably said before she is beautiful. Kiku-san must know how lucky he is because he complains about her working here too much.

If I wasn't so fond of Kana-san I would make her spend every minute with her fiancé, because I want Kana-san to be happy forever.

"_So_ if it isn't a love note from that boy, then what _is _that Hoshiko-chan?" My face must fall a little as Kana-san interrupts my childish thoughts of happily-ever-after and she looks troubled.

"Wait, Hoshiko-chan, tell me it wasn't a _rejection_ letter, was it? Because if it was, then you're not missing out because that boy is much too girly - !"

"It's not that Kana-san. It's just an invitation." At this Kana-san closes her mouth and just smiles at me breathlessly.

"Just an invitation? My my…you rich people and your parties! When I was your age getting invited to a _movie_ was like Christmas!" I smile back and slowly form a tighter ball around the cardstock but I feel Kana-san's smooth hand on my wrist. "Now, what do you think you're doing? I just say that invitations are special and you go right back to crumpling it up again?"

"I well, its – ," Kana-san holds up a hand at my impending excuses.

"No no! I don't even care if its from the least likeable person on the planet, you should at least _consider_. You haven't even opened the envelope Hoshiko-chan! Now, let's see!" She pulls the messy conglomeration of calligraphy and heavy paper and begins smoothing edges and pulling the corners.

The scrawl becomes script and she bites her lip as she opens it evenly, something she's learned by opening many of Kiku-san's love notes. She thinks I don't see, but I do.

"Ahhh! Hoshiko-chan! The Senior Ball how exciting! You're going of course, aren't you? Oh…you'll have to let me do your hair! Wait…what's this…Star-crossed lovers? How _romantic_ Hoshiko-chan! And the starry theme! Perfect for you – !" I can feel only small happiness bubbling to the surface as Kana-san gushes over the invitation. Kana-san couldn't attend college because her family was very poor, but she's always wanted to see the world. I could see the world any day of the week. I could attend a thousand balls if I accepted every invitation I got, and trust me, I got many. Kana-san has never been to a ball or a party like that. She's never dressed up like a princess and danced to live orchestrations and been with boys who have soft hands and soft eyes and soft smiles.

I don't know why I reach out over the tea tray and wrap my arms around her. She stops talking and looks at me, but I've already buried my face in her shoulder. I have never done this on my own, a lot of the time it's Kana-san hugging me briefly, but this time, I need to. I need to hug her and be close to her. I want her to know so badly that I care for her.

I feel her soften and her hands drop into her lap. She is very soft, just the way I imagined she would be. She smells like warm things. Baking bread is the first that pops into mind.

"I don't want Mura-san to see, she'll kill us." She whispers and I just hold tighter.

"I'll go to the party for you Kana-san. I'll do whatever you say to do." I murmur and Kana-san for once doesn't have anything to say in return. She just lets me hug her.  
She knows very well how much everything means.

"Hai, Hoshiko-sama."

* * *

I have somehow fallen asleep on the couch in the living area when my Mother enters our home. She is wearing a dress I've never seen before. She smells like Givenchy perfume and fine leather. Its so funny how easily my Mother can be described even from a distance where I can't even really see her that clearly. Everything about her is clean; and judging by our house and its simple, yet somehow ornate architecture, you can derive this. She is the one who made all the decisions about the house when it was being built. It was a present from my Father after I was born. She is all angles my mother, but then suddenly she'll throw in something softer, rounder, and it's all just so pleasing to the eye. The tang of tanned leather, the sweetness of Givenchy perfume.

It is impossible to not know she is there, and I am instantly awake the moment she steps through the threshold; that's how foreign she is to this place.

"Madame!" Mura-san beseeches, and I hear expensive heels striking the marble foyer sharply, echoing off of the vaulted ceiling and back down, each one like a shout. I've heard that walk many, many times. It is a frightening and vicious walk, my Mother's furious facial expression not even needed to convey her temper. When I choose to emerge, it is of course, the wrong time. It is always the wrong time for Mother.

"Mother!" I can't help but be happy to see her. She is stunning, and my eyes feel warm just looking at her. She twists her neck, long hair pinned back in a mother-of-pearl clasp, the Chanel slip dress caressing her every curve. Slate grey settles on me, sparkling due to the makeup she wears, burgundy lips twisting into a grimace. I feel myself lose my breath as I come into full view, "Welcome Home!" I stutter, trying to hide my happiness at seeing her again, bowing deeply. She lets out a puff of air through her nose.

"What in god's name are you wearing?" Her voice is like smooth polished rocks in a river bed, ice cold water flowing over them. I look up from my position and smooth the crinkle in the skirt of my ensemble. It was a newer addition to the growing closet I am in the makings off. A skirt with crinoline underneath, a cashmere undershirt and a ruffled sweater that goes to the elbow, a newer design by the Hitachiin enterprises and very limited in edition, or so Papa's letter said.

"Father bought it for me in P- !" She cuts me off with a tick in her jaw and a raised palm.

"I don't even want to hear about that _wretch._ Not even from you." She spits and I blink in wonderment as she taps her fingers furiously together, anxious and unnerved. Her gaze darts around as if she's unfamiliar with our house after so long away and then settles again on me.

"Go change your clothes, I can't even stand seeing you in something that _pig_ bought." I feel startled for a moment and then she looks severe, "_Go. _Or I won't tell you what your Sister told me!"

"S-Sister?" I choke and she rolls her eyes condescendingly.

"ARE YOU DEAF?" She shouts and I am already up the stairs. Below me I hear her ask for a strong drink and her furious heels clack into the dining room where I'm sure dinner is being hustled into preparation.

The whole house shakes.  
Its mistress has returned.

* * *

I pick at my food. Mother does the same, complaining and going on to the apologetic chef.  
I can't say anything, but I do know that Mother insisted on shell fish even though she knows I'm allergic. Actually, Mother probably doesn't know that.

Besides, they're completely out of season, but Mother doesn't care about trivial things like global tides or global warming, or global patterns or anything inconvenient like that.

I clear my throat and she looks up from her Merlot, eyes hooded.

"You said Sister said something to you?" I ask cautiously and Mother just takes a deep sip of her wine, sighing as she does it. She looks worn out for some reason.

"Apparently she is attending some party being thrown by your School."

There aren't any words.

"They asked her too, appealed to her by formal invitation; can you believe it? I'm just glad they didn't ask me."

"I…I'm not…"

"I don't care frankly Hoshiko. Your Father and I are divorcing."

My fork drops to my plate, my eyes glued to the food I can't eat.  
In the bluntest form my Mother can muster, she has told me the truth.  
I have anticipated this; thought on it many times. Replayed the scenario over and over. It is very, very evident that my parent's don't love each other, but I never thought that it would sting this much.

"I've been planning it for years, but I'm finally going to do it, and there really isn't much _anyone_ (me) can say." I just stare at the pooling lemon juice over my scallops.

"So you…didn't come home…" My Mother laughs.

"You honestly thought I was coming home for _you_? Oh you poor stupid child…" She just laughs and I watch in horror as the tears don't come.  
They don't come, they don't fall, my eyes are completely dry. Why? Why is it like this when I want to scream and sob?

It may not be a family for storybooks, but it is the only family I have ever had, and it is breaking at the seams. I have been torn in so many places already. _Planning it for years?_ My fingers are shaking.

I feel angry. Why do I cry when I see Takashi-kun but not now? Why is my body betraying me? What could possibly be wrong with me? Was it me? Is that why she's leaving? I can change. I'll do anything just don't go! Mother won't answer any of these questions. She has never owed me an explanation. Never.

"Are you going to say anything?" She continues, voice tinged with exasperation and false fatigue. If only she could know how I felt.

How I can't feel.

"No." I whisper, "I am…happy when you are happy…"

"I will be happy when I am free of this mangled household…"

Mother is always happiest when I am alone.

* * *

The days to the ball drift by in a haze. My Mother leaves for the last time in a flurry of confusion; it appears she has forgotten an important date and must call her packing and dividing of objects and arguments short.

She does not say goodbye to me, and I am almost relieved.

Almost, save for the intense pain in my chest that makes it hard to breathe at times that it's important to breathe, such as when I am preparing for seeing my Sister for the first time in years. She will be exactly as I remember her, and that is all I can ascertain because I have seen many photographs of her and she hasn't changed at all. I'm sure you think that I am heartless, that I am someone who doesn't care about the abrupt divorce of their parents, but I can't convey what a blow this is. Something has happened and it is rocking my world from side to side, and I am adrift in the center, simply rolling with the motions. Going with the punches, is something Kana-san says. There is nothing I _can_ do.

I have no power. I can't even cry.  
Nothing I would ever have said would change or justify my Mother into not divorcing my Father.

I am forced to accept it, but it has done something to me I can't really understand. It has left me asking "why?" yet again.

I just want to know why this family wasn't good enough for them, but why it was always good enough for me.

"Hoshiko-chan, when this is all over, I want you to feel good about going. I don't want you to feel as if I'm forcing you to go." Kana-san is being very gentle with my hair today as she twists it, snapping in the corsage and brushing a stray piece of fluff off of my bare shoulder. Kana-san is silly sometimes.

No one will ever think she forced me to go; she's a maid.

I am swathed in midnight blue with a full skirt showered in crystals that have the distinct appearance of stars in a midnight sky. Kana-san has outdone herself, and I have allowed her to out-do herself.  
She is leaving for New York when I begin my first semester at college.

I accept it numbly.

My hair is shining, the ribbon I am so used to wearing is glimmering in the lamplight, a glossy sheen on its hook in my jewelry box. My feet already ache from my heels, but I do look beautiful. Even _I_ can agree when she pushes me up in front of the mirror and shows me not the child I am inside, but the woman I am forming. My face looks cold.

The girl in the mirror is covered in spiderweb cracks; they lace her arms and her face and all over. Small cuts, tiny chips I her façade after years and years and years.  
I am almost 19 years old, and this, within itself is a startling revelation. I am not a little girl anymore to the world; I am not a child to the world, no matter how I feel.

I pinch my cheeks and instantly blood pools and I am blushing by design.

Kana-san smiles.  
She hugs me very closely. Again, I note that she smells like sunshine and sleeping in.  
Kana-san shouldn't be bothered with me when she has everything that she'll ever need to be happy. Kana-san goes home to Kiku-san, and she hasn't told me yet, but I can tell that it is even better than that.

I can tell by the way she touches her stomach when she thinks no one is looking.

"You are going to be fine tonight Hoshiko-chan."

_You'll be alright._

"Kana-san?"  
"Hmm?" She looks worried for me and it's a look on her face I never want to see again. Not on Kana-san, not after how she's been with me for such a long time, after she's been such a confident and friend and somewhat like a Sister or a Mother to me. I want to tell her that I'm not going to be fine, that I am going to crash and burn, that this is the end of the tunnel and the light is going to blind me.

But I don't, and its better this way because I'm not being so selfish with Kana-san like I was with Sister. This time, with Kana-san, I am holding on just a little more to what I want.

I just want to love someone, was that ever so much to ask of anyone? But even she is out of reach. Her heart won't ever belong to me, because she has a family.

I just wanted…

"Oh, nothing." I smile, and she returns it with a grateful laugh.

The girl in the mirror cracks just a little more.

But still, she just won't break.

* * *

**Next time: The final chapter :'D**

**xoxo,  
Spoons**


	7. Once Upon Goodbye

**Hope you enjoyed our little journey!**

(A/N)* = POV change here...don't freak :'D

xoxo,  
Spoons

**Crybaby!**

…Chapter Seven…

_Once upon Goodbye_

Once upon a time, I would never have walked into that ballroom.

Everything was filmy with light, and heavy with flowers and the whole room buzzed with excitement. The campus was filled with seniors of every walk, all gathered for one last dance, one final hurrah.

Ouran held us there, cradled us in her hallways, holding on, silently, sweetly, sadly, afraid to let us go out amongst the world where we are adult and frightened and vulnerable.

I am the smallest of all of them, the most inconspicuous; the gown does not stand out here but blurs at the edges, and I cannot help but wonder where I begin and all of these feelings that I hold in my heart end.

I should never have looked for Haruhi-kun then, but I wanted to apologize so badly, so sorely. I felt terrible for my behaviors for being so dishonest. I am so tired of lies and of facades and smoke and mirrors. I want to strip myself of the lead that lines me, the tangled webs I have woven, that snake there way across my neck and cut off my air and make me dizzy with fatigue.

I should never have gone straight there. I should never have crept silently into the dim hallways to the third music room. I should never have, but fate had so many different ideas.

* * *

Mai Yuzumari was a formidable woman; as formidable as Takashi could ever have remembered. The first time they had met was at the Champions Dinner, where older and newer Kendo champions gathered each year to welcome the ranks and pass down wisdom and generally be solemn and stoic. She was accompanied by her then former champion fiancée and his family. Takashi had been with his Father, his Mother staying behind to tend to his sick brother and Mistukuni had never allowed himself to attend, always stressing the importance of a _Morinozuka_ tradition.

Takashi was growing exceptionally tired of all the festivities. He'd forgotten his contacts that morning and his eyes ached from the lighting and the flashing pearly smiles of a million hopeful daughters and his bones ached from competitions earlier that week.

Mai Yuzumari had been standing in the back corner of the room, and when he had edged beside her as his Father downed champagne and the girls fluttered with their confident dance partners she had immediately looked at him from the corner of her eye. He'd stiffened slightly under her gaze and she'd surveyed him thoroughly before letting a tiny smile creep into the very edge of her mouth.

Her smile was very much like the shy one of a girl in his class, a girl he watched patiently as she stumbled through her days and laughed with friends that did not see the troublesome tenseness in her shoulders. A small girl (very small for her age he'd always noted) who'd shared her crayons with him once and even her lunch and in return had been offered service when she could not reach high places.

It was a smile that tried very hard.

"So you're the new one they talk about. These old men are very impressed with your success at such a young age. They think you'll be the next prodigy." Takashi had only looked at her and she'd stared into him, through his eyes and into him in a way he'd never really experienced before. Her smile deepened. It tried harder.

"My name is Mai…my fiancée over there was the Champion a good number of years ago. He was also young…you must be in what? Your third year of Middle School?"

Takashi had nodded, mesmerized by the gleam of her red nailpolish and the glint of her glossy tortoise-shell hair. She'd nodded in return, contemplating silently, moving a bit closer with the click of her stilettos on the marble floor.

"They said you went to Ouran Academy?" A pause as he responded and her eyes hooded, smoky lashes brushing her cheeks as she sighed, "My younger sister is probably in your class. Her name is Hoshiko. Do you know her?"

Hoshiko. Hoshiko. He knew her name very well. He heard it often. _Hoshiko-sama_ when she was served lunch, _Shiko-chan_ by her best friend, a peppy, loud, giggling girl named Nao. _Hoshiko-_chan for Mitsukuni, who thought she was very cute and soft and shy. Hoshiko when he asked her for her crayons, when he opened a door for her, when he asked for her paper to pass up.

Mai's eyes sifted over him once more and her mouth twitched.

"That girl is very alone, and you know it, don't you."

For the life of him, Takashi couldn't remember nodding at all. Just her face close to his, lips bent to whisper into his ear, the sweetness of her breath as she'd delivered her orders.

"…_when you see that child, I want you to protect her from the truth. Let her revel in your heroic deeds…she needs something like that, a hero."_

The rest of that conversation was history, a long way off, but now, with Mai Yuzumari standing in front of him again, Takashi can't help but feel as though he's failed her.

"You must be Hoshiko's Sister, Mai! We're delighted – …" Mori notes the way Mai pays no attention to Tamaki, pushing past him, her icy glare settling on him only. Tamaki falters, Kyoya's glasses glitter and even the twins look hesitant as she approaches him. Her eyes narrow.

"What do you think you're doing?" The accusation hits him hard, but he only stares at her evenly, Mitsukuni somewhere behind him looking on. She doesn't wait for his reply, simply continuing.

"I trusted you to protect her! And what have you done? Fed her with these ideas? Do honestly think that this will help her? Inviting her to this? Being a part of this? Where she can see you court other girls as easily as anything?"

"I don't understand where you got that idea, Mai-san, but that is not the case of the Host Club. We strive to make young ladies feel just like that: ladies treated courteously and politely by gentlemen. Not courted or manipulated as you may think." Kyoya's eyes narrow as he finally steps forward, his cufflinks gleaming, appearance so polished he almost makes someone's eyes hurt. Mai clenches her jaw.

"Hoshiko is a vulnerable child Kyoya Oohtori, and there is nothing _you_ of all people would be able to do to convince me you haven't taken advantage of her to the fullest." She turned back to Takashi, hawkish expression continuing to remain vivid, "It has nothing to do with any of them. This is only about you. I told you to protect her from the truth, you promised you would watch over Hoshiko in my absence, but you've let it go this far."

"Is it true?"*

Everyone's eyes turn to me, and all of them are shocked, all except my Sister.

"What are you doing Hoshiko, shouldn't you be attending your ball?" She says softly and I feel my jaw tremble in her presence. After all this time and she still looks at me like a child. I stare at Takashi-kun. I can't even believe it's true. I had paused outside the doorway when I heard them talking and I had listened, frozen to what poured from her lips, but even then I couldn't bear to believe it. As she spoke it was like everything inside me was being ripped into two.

"Is it true? She told you to be nice to me? To pity me?" I am not crying, but my voice cracks and Takashi looks at me with nothing but truth in his eyes.

"Ah." He replies and feel my lips quiver, but I refuse to let the tears spill over.

"Hoshiko, I only did it for your own good." When my Sister speaks she holds the same tiredness as my Mother, as if she can't be bothered with me, and I cannot find the means to look at her. My fantasies destroyed, I have nothing to cling to. "You have always been the odd one out Hoshiko, and I was getting far too old to put up these false exteriors. So when I had the opportunity to save you from the truth I took it."

"WHAT TRUTH?!" I don't recognize my voice as I shout at her, fists clenched, "What truth, Mai? The truth that our Mother has hated me for as long as I can remember? That the one person I ever trusted fully would abandon me? That my Father has been such a coward he cannot even look me in the face? What truth Mai? What secret am I so excluded from? Because I have always known that! I have _ALWAYS _known I was alone!"

Mai purses her lips.

"You have never known why." Time slows; my breathing stops, my eyes dialate. Why? Why…why. Questions I've never asked. I always accepted the emptiness; I always embraced it. So…why…

"Do you want to know Hoshiko, why all those things are? Why you cling to shabby lies, like this boy, why you clung to me because I showed you the only kindness? Do you want to know why everything I have ever done for you has been to protect you?" My fingers are shaking. I am shaking; the room is spinning, and Mai is looking at me in a funny way that speaks of sadness and pain and bitterness.

"I'm n-not a child Mai." I whisper, "I deserve to know…"

The whole room falls silent.

"You're not my Sister, Hoshiko. You're the product of an affair. The only reason my Mother even accepted you into the house was because she was so bereft over the death of her own child that she thought she could make you into something you weren't. Our Father was the one who came up with the bright idea of making you a cover up under a false pretext that he would quit cheating, and to divert the media when my Mother lost her son. It was a win all around Hoshiko."

The girl in the mirror shatters into a thousand slivers; shards of her are littering my bedroom floor. The final crack down the center of her chest, breaking her open and exploding on the carpet, stuck and stabbing into walls. Mai stares at me evenly, but I am numb, despite the beating of my heart through my chest. Here…and now…and why…

"You became my Father's excuse that he wasn't cheating, as long as my Mother went along with it, and in return she got a replacement child."

"Then why? Why did you bother – ?" I whisper, the words fumbling and dumbstruck, even thoughI have suspected this for so long, but never allowed my brain to grasp it fully. I have always denied it. I have always fervently denied this, but now, I have run straight into the tripwire and everything has gone up in flames.

"Because Hoshiko, I thought I could protect you from them. From the accusations and from my Mother's bitterness and the world, but mostly Hoshiko, I thought I was strong enough to protect you from yourself."

"Protect me? You left! YOU LEFT ME ALONE! For so long I wanted you to be with me! I wanted us to be together! All of us! I wanted us to be a family! I wanted us to stay together, even if it was hurting me! I…I just wanted to love you…I just wanted…" I can feel the tears start to curl down my face and I push my hand over my mouth, cutting myself off. Takashi is staring at me now. Takashi-kun, who doesn't look away, who has never looked away, is staring at me.

I can't breathe. I am suffocating in the room.

So I turn, and I run.

* * *

Tamaki's face is dark as he turns to the woman left standing, her face tense with hurt.

"You say she isn't your Sister…but you're both horrible liars when it comes to what you truly want." He says softly from behind her. He looked at Kyoya, running a pale hand against the back of his neck as he did so.

"You told me in the invitation that I should be prepared to talk to her. I never knew you had such information on your clients let alone such an unfrequent visitor like Hoshiko." She replied thickly.

"He didn't ask you. I did." Her eyes flitted to the smaller young boy in the corner, his brown hair shadowing his dark eyes.

"Hoshiko-senpai needed to hear the truth from you. She's about to graduate; she can't keep living with all the weight you've placed on her, and Host Club members take it personally when one of their clients is troubled. It's our duty to help girls." Haruhi steadied her gaze on the woman who was unsuspecting to her own lies, dressed in her suit and tie.

"Hoshiko-senpai deserved to know. It's the only way she'll ever be able to let go. If anyone was truly at fault, it was you Mai-san. Lying to her from the beginning was setting her up for this. And that's why you left and never looked back. You thought you could just break the ties with her and hoped it would compensate; it would give her another focus for her sadness."

Mai smiled wearily, running a hand through her glossy hair.

"You're quite observant…and you're right. I did all that because I always knew it was wrong…but still…I only wanted her to smile…from the time she was little she was always such a crybaby. How did you find all this out anyway?" Haruhi didn't betray her confidence to Kyoya then. To Tamaki either, who was the one who had originally requested the background. She only looked over the woman's shoulder at the empty space where Mori had previously been standing. Honey was smiling sadly.

"Don't worry…" He started with a soft voice, "Takashi went after her."

* * *

I trembled then, my back pressed against the nearest wall in a deserted hallway. I don't have any grace as I slide down, my dress pooling awkwardly and my corsage falling to the floor. I haven't even danced. I haven't even danced one time for Kana-san. My loose hair falls into my eyes, and I hastily brush it away, lifting my shaking hands to my cheeks, catching the tears sliding down and dripping off of the edge of my chin. My mouth opens, and closes.

I am a coward. I don't remember how I got here, just running. My shoes have come off of my feet, kicked awkwardly as I went. I tripped over my dress, until I finally got here, in the labyrinth of hallways and pristine classrooms and coral colored paneling. I couldn't stay there, surrounded by so many eyes…but mostly I couldn't be there with him. I couldn't face him. The humiliation, the pain…and I only wanted to tell him thank you.

And this time, I didn't have anything to lose; I had nothing left. Sister had finally made it clear…Mai had finally made it evident. I wasn't even her Sister. I wasn't even…

I can only stiffen as I hear his soft tread enter the hallway; he comes silently, like wind in the nighttime. The moon smiles down on the party that has resumed – music pours from the inside of the grand halls and I am sure they are entertaining to their best abilities. It is a beautiful night, sweet air filters down through pulled-cotton clouds and twinkling, grinning stars poke through deep black curtains of the sky, and I could see it all through the picture windows if I wanted to but I don't. I don't want to. I never want to look at the stars again, I don't want to dream anymore. But those thoughts are so empty.

I will look at the stars again. I will dream again. I am so desperate for this, whatever it ever turned out to be.

As long as someone is _seeing _me, as long as someone like Takashi-kun can see my tears and stays; even if he looks away, as long as he is there, then it is alright by me. I don't even care if he was told to do it. We both know I am about to lose this…whatever this ever was. It strikes me like a knife. It hurts so badly I cannot help but cry one last time; shameful tears I wish so hard wouldn't fall.

I tried so hard at everything. To make Mother see me, to make Papa say what I always knew…to make Sister stay behind with me.

I tried _so_ hard…and Takashi-kun always knew that.

Takashi-kun stands close to me and then he slides down the wall to sit down too. I don't move, just stare straight ahead, hand still hovering near my face. More tears hit my palms.

I hesitate, trying to breath in a shaky breath, but Takashi-kun does something funny. His hand threads through the hair on my head, and he lets his fingers rest on my scalp.

"It's ok to cry. You're allowed to cry when you've been hurt." He murmurs.

He has come to stand by my quivering weakness one last time. My silent guardian, my precious Takashi-kun, has come again to my rescue one last time. _I don't even care if you were told to do it…I will never care…because…because I…_ I can hear my heart bleed into my ears, the ragged thumping against my chest loud enough for him to hear. _I love him. I love him._ Thump. Thump.

"It's ok to cry." He repeats.

We both understand that it is over, even though nothing ever really started. Nothing ever would have.

So I do. I cry without abandon or pride.

Because maybe, because he is here, it wasn't _all_ for nothing. And if he says its ok, then maybe it will be.  
Maybe. Maybe that was all I ever wanted; to be standing with Takashi-kun when all the walls came tumbling down, when all the statues crumbled, when everything was broken glass.

There is no happy ending at the moment, but someday I know there will be for me, I'm just not ready for the bed of roses yet. I have a lot of pain to take now, but I'll be able to make it this time. I won't bite off more than I can chew. The truth hurts now, but it won't forever.

Will it?

"Thank you! Thank you!" I sob. He doesn't say anything. He doesn't need to say anything. He just listens, and lets me give all that I can give. And then, with all of that, I stutter slowly to a silence.

I have reached my goal. I did what I thought I could never do.  
And he knew it all along.

For now there is no white horse, no kiss, no waking princess, no glass slippers. I have been hurt by people I have loved so much. But it will be alright. I'm optimistic of that outcome. The final golden stars that I can see hovering on the horizon now. The storm clouds have parted, the rain has poured buckets.

I was a crybaby, sure, but it's ok.

"The sky is so beautiful…" I whisper, hardly realizing I've said it out loud. He turns to look with me out the windows, side by side, silence and the pale moon illuminating the hallway.

"…when I was little, someone told me I was a star…" I watch the twinkling pools of light; they've never been prettier. My hand involuntarily outstretches to them, praying someday I'll be among them, twinkling and shining. My fingers close around light I can't hold, but know is there. "I've always wanted to be up there, up with the stars…even if it's lonely up there. I can watch all the people I love, and that'll be…that'll be enough." His hand on my head tells me that it will be enough. The empty hallway; the chimes of Ouran's bell tower, the sounds of music and dancing, the click of stilettos on distant marble floors, the way my Sister will look back at the school and back at the picture windows with a sad smile and think of me for one breathless moment.

The past when we were together, the past I will never forget and always cherish, those precious moments I called you mine and I was yours, those tell me it will be enough to love you from the height of the dark sky.

Because Takashi said it was ok to, and I believe him. I've always believed him above the others. It was ok if he was the one I loved most.

The bells in the clock tour of Ouran High School chime softly in the distance, echoing with each of her children that are passing on. The hallway is quiet and Takashi-kun and I sit in silence, staring at the stars and the sudden bursts of fireworks among them that mark the festivities. My hair is messy and my eyes are red, but Takashi-kun stays.

He doesn't think I'm ugly or selfish. To him, I am just Hoshiko.

I want Takashi to always think of me that way. As Hoshiko.

I close my eyes; the bells sing a lullaby, a final goodnight to me. To a little girl that is growing up, and even though pushing through the dirt is hard and painful, I will one day reach the stars. I _will_ be among them. I say goodbye to her too, and it isn't so sad, but merely bittersweet.

I, in a space of time so short it is almost inconceivable, have become lighter. I am no longer so dragged down; I am free, even if I am free because of something that will be very painful. At least I am free.

Long before midnight, Takashi-kun and I part ways.

We graduate.

Time passes.

Mother and Father finalize their divorce; and for the first time, my Mother genuinely smiles at me. Her brow is creased with wrinkles, I notice, as she approaches me with civil grace. She is not as beautiful as I ever remembered. She has aged noticeably, and she hides it under a façade that is almost nonexistent. She is no longer beautiful on the inside to me.

"I can look at you now, and it will be alright." She says softly, but it won't be. The flashes of camera pops are too distracting and her burgundy lips peck my cheek, my hair ribbon sticks to the trail she leaves behind her. I don't really feel it, but I smile all the same.

Snow falls in Tokyo.

I attend college, a prestigious one. I was welcomed instantly. My Father has told me I can do whatever I want; I have no real ties to his company or his status. They are phantoms that trail ghostly fingers over tabloids and news articles. The woman who gave birth to me lies face down at the bottom of my desk drawer, her watery eyes staring at the spare sheets of paper kept there with her. She smiles a weak smile; her long brown hair hangs limply down her shoulders but her face is pretty. Father gave it to me as some poor excuse for compensation.

I look exactly like her.

Life moves on and on and on, and I am alone, but I am surviving.

It's all I'll ever ask of myself. To survive, and to try to be happy, even when the rainclouds trample on my dreams, even when I get clouded by circumstances.

I remember Takashi-kun a lot. I miss him. Kana-san writes from New York, her letters fill my apartment's mailbox fit to bursting. She's working as a maid in a huge hotel, and Kiku-san is working very hard at his new foreign-relations job. They don't have a very big apartment, and it is very hard to live in the city and expensive, but she's taking night classes and trying to become an official American so she can sing at the hotel some day. Kiku-san wants to move them to someplace wide and open, not cramped like the cities here, the ones that Kana-san has lived in all her life.  
She is going to have a baby; I smile. I already knew that.

A baby girl. It makes my chest ache as I write back to her frantically.

She wants to name the baby after me.

Days melt into weeks and months and years.

I'm sure I still love him. I know every time I imagine Kana-san's family and Mai's too. I don't really call her Sister anymore. It's grown out of me, like all the parts I had when I was in high school that have grown up and gone away as well. We speak often enough; I have come to terms with her, and I have begun to understand why she acted the way she did, why it should never have been her responsibility to take care of me. What happened to both of us is a sad circumstance, but we are reconciling slowly but surely. But the growing up isn't really that bad. I welcome it now, it isn't so scary anymore.

I can understand why she left so much behind now. It used to baffle me how she could grow up and just leave it all, but now it isn't so hard to get. It's easier to leave those painful things physically where you don't have to touch them, even if they linger in your heart for a long time. The ribbon sits forgotten in my jewelry box. The clothes my Father bought me hang in a lonely closet…Kana-san's hair corsage sits on my night table, a delicate reminder of the last time I was a high school girl and could get away with frivolous fantasies and small ideas.

Nao-chan even grew up, if you can believe it. We all must, in this sophisticated world we live in. There can be no Peter Pan's, and even if there were, the Wendy's always have to return to the window sometime.

The Host Club hasn't closed its doors, and from time to time I receive little things; small invitations to reunions, galas for prospective business arrangements. I never go, but I collect each one.

Someone once told me that invitations were something to be cherished, no matter whom the sender, and that is somewhat like a fairytale perspective but I don't really mind.

I am alright, even if I still remember fairytales from when I was little or sad.  
Even if sometimes I remember my Sister stroking my hair and telling me I was a star-baby.

Even if I believe some of it sometimes.

Kana-san never stopped believing she would one day become a Cinderella story, and one day I know she will sing on a stage. I've never heard her sing, so I don't even know if she has a beautiful voice or not. I don't need to; it was all part of the magic. If anyone was my fairy godmother, it was her. I remember once she told me that when you see the person that you want to spend the rest of time with, you'll know.

I knew long, long ago.

But _wanting_ to be with that person and being with them is such a huge chasm of a difference.

But it's alright. I am alright for Takashi-kun, because I've learned that there is so much more to life than tears.

I smile. He taught me that a little.

His eyes always skimmed over top of me, but they acknowledged me when they realized their error. It's nice to look back and think he was only a tall problem I couldn't reach; that it was just something I needed a boost to get to. I can smile now because of Takashi-kun. He gives me happy memories.

Maybe that's all I ever asked for. Happy memories.  
There was once a time where we sat quietly side by side and colored, once a time where I made him smile in grade school, once upon a time where he helped me reach tall things, and I shared my lunch shyly when he forgot his.

Once upon a time, Takashi-kun was my Knight in shining armor.  
He still is, and once upon a happy-ending I'll tell him without crying at all. It's just another wish to fulfill, another dream to catch.

I'll put my hand in his and look in his eyes.

I'll tell him that I'm grateful he took my Sister so seriously, that he protected me for so long, even if he might have been lying.

_Thank you for letting me love you_.

Sometimes lying isn't so bad when it helps someone. He let me love him as much as I wanted to, he let me idolize him and hold him up above the rest.

He let me do that for as long as I wanted to.  
_That is all I ever wanted - to love someone without reason._

Takashi gave me hope, and wishes, and a purpose when I couldn't find any, he gave me distractions from the pain until I was ready to take it for myself.

When the darkness was there, he lifted me above it all, he told me I'd be alright.

He gave me the sky.

He gave me rain, falling endlessly, in Tokyo. This city is just a big crybaby, but then again, it does take one to know one.

I will love him forever; as long as the moon lights the sky, I will be looking down on wherever he is and believing that I can love him from this place, high above the sadness and the earth. I will be up where I have prayed to be. The one place I have ever wished to be, on a thousand paper cranes, on a million twinkling holes in a murky darkness.

It all started with a book, and ended with the sky, and I will be here, amongst the stars.

And they will all live happily ever after.

* * *

**YOSH! ON TO THE EPILOGUE!**


	8. Epilogue

**Crybaby!**

...Epilogue…

_If you need a shoulder, mine is here, and I love you, and no one can tell you what to do, and roses and diamonds could never take the place of your face._

To Her With Love – Kara's Flowers

Rain hit the pavement in heavy sheets, drenching the world in runny grey and silver. Trees glistened and the streets were slick with water, cars making slight sighs as they hit the brakes at stoplights.

Mori moved quickly, darting within the crowd, one hand poised on the top of his bag, the other holding the collar of his jacket so the scarf round his neck would remain intact. The rain hit him with an icy sting and he panted, breath illuminated in the streetlights as he went about his way.

* * *

**If he hadn't paused under the awning of a building to catch his breath, he never would have seen her. If he hadn't been late to class at all he never would have...he doesn't want to think about that.**

* * *

She was still short, her brown bob had grown out into something a bit messy with the rain, just touching her shoulders. She didn't wear the hair ribbons, like she had all the time he'd known her, but at the same time she looked so little; like a girl dressed up to be a lady, wearing her mother's clothes. She was wearing a brown muffler and a navy pea coat, hands encasing a pale umbrella, and a flowered skirt peeked out from under her trench, her wrists adorned with the cashmere hems of her shirt, the color of white cream. He didn't recognize her at first, but only noted her pretty face as he leaned against a metal column underneath the fluttering canopy, still panting. But then, all of a sudden he caught her staring at him from beside the shop's door.

"Takashi-kun?" Her voice was still high, but Mori was still shocked as he looked over to where she stood. He hadn't been called Takashi in a very long while…just like high school, Mori seemed to stick more than his actual name.

"Ah…" He said, watching as she blinked, before her face melted into a grin he hadn't remembered as well as he probably should have. It stirred something in him, seeing her face light up like that.

"Oh gosh, I hope you haven't forgotten me! Hoshiko Yuzumari, from high school?" He just stared. How could he forget? He almost smiled…where were all the tears? But she stole the words right out from under him, stepping up despite the funny looks of passersby, too excited, no, too _delighted_ to see him.

He hadn't seen anybody delighted to see him in a while; he didn't have so much time to visit home or Mitsukuni anymore with law school._  
_  
"I can't believe it! It's you! I'm so glad to see you looking well!" She started again, Mori blinking at her in the dim light. She looked beautiful, her whole face glowing and Mori just shook his head slightly, a bit of water trailing down his temple. Immediately her face took on alarm. Where were his words? They always seemed to hide, shrinking back into his mouth.

* * *

**She knew, he understood, that he was happy to see her too. Relieved, a better word for it.**

* * *

"Oh no, you're soaked to the bone!" She cried, taking a step closer to him her understatement beginning to sink in like the actual coldness seeping into his skin, the wind fanning her skirt as she moved and Mori felt his breath catch. She smelled like wet lilies, the kind that floated in the pond at home. She moved closer, "Are you in a hurry? You can come to my apartment and dry off, I'll give you an umbrella if you'd like! The idea of you walking around in this downpour makes me nervous! You could get sick!"

He knows what _he_ wants.

Mori looked at the eager face he hadn't seen in so long and the umbrella in her hand, ready to be accepted. Nostalgia bit at the insides of him, gnawed at his stomach and his heart. He wanted to go with her, back to her apartment; he wanted to dry off and see the inside of her world and drink tea. He wanted to forget about class _just once_, and remember her, even if the memories were awkward.

He hadn't realized how much he missed everything until right then, when he decided quite firmly he needed a short break from all the trouble of being grown up.

Mori reached out and took the umbrella gently from her fingertips.

"I'll hold it." He said softly and Hoshiko beamed, stepping under the dry spot as he opened it, her body nearing his tall one.

"It's so good to see you Takashi-kun! So good to see you without crying at least! I really was something else in high school, ne? A real crybaby!" She chirped, and he could hear the genuine happiness drip off of her like rain drops on his coat. She looked up at him, and this time, just as she said, she isn't crying. She is grinning. She's different; she's lighter. He can read it on her face and in her actions.

"Thank you." She continues, gesturing to the umbrella. But it's more than that; it's thank you for all the times she couldn't say it. It makes him feel warm. It spreads down to his fingers and through his heart and all over.

* * *

**Warm. She makes him feel warm all over him now. No more cold, just…comfort. Together there is something he couldn't see before. Something he couldn't feel over the roar of painful waves. Maybe this is alright for both of them this time. He wonders if she's always been that way and he just never noticed.**

* * *

He smiles back in his own quiet way. The waters are all calmer now.  
Yes. Definitely good for the both of them this time.

"It's good to see you too."

He never expected for tea to turn into a conversation.

Or more just her talking to him on and on and on. She fills the silence of her apartment with words over and over, spilling them out across the table between them and seeping into his brain till it is as soaked as he is. The towel she's given him is draped across his neck and he is smiling at her as she goes, twittering and nervously moving her hands like fluttering birds, as self-concious as someone thrust before a crowd, but it is only him.

* * *

**He has never seen someone try so hard as she does; she tries so hard to smile, and he sees the faintest traces of the past that he knows she's tried desperately not to forget, but to move on from. **

* * *

Her Sister is having a baby.

She looks sad while she says this; traces the rim of her tea cup.

"I'm not the baby anymore…it's so strange…" He can relate in the most opposite of ways.

Satoshi has a girlfriend, but more importantly all the time spent reveling over Takashi is now over Nana-chan, and even Chika can't fight it. Takashi knows he will always hold his place, but its hard to really watch his brother grow up from this perspective.

His other news is menial to himself, but she drinks it up like sugared milk. Sometimes he forgets how often she wasn't at the host club, unlike the swarms of her friends if he remembers correctly, which he almost always does. Tamaki and Haruhi are still bickering about getting married. She looks startled at this and he realizes he may have said something uncouth, but then she begins to laugh.

"I always had my suspicions!" She says, still giggling, "I think I just didn't want to admit it! She certainly was a beautiful boy…"

Kyoya claims he will marry _eventually_. His face has littered newspapers on and off with his prospective wife, a very serious looking woman named Mayuri. Mori can't help but find it fitting her name means 'benefit'. The Twins well, even Mori doesn't know that. They are everywhere these days, and by everywhere he means causing panic in the fashion industry as two of the most high strung mischief makers in the world. Apparently by 'taking it all by storm' they meant burning villages and destroying crops as far as stealing success. They've become the center of attention, as they always should be.

And Mitsukuni is wherever he wants to be, and that happens to be attending school overseas.  
With time for cooking school that is, but who is Takashi to judge.

And when he asks about her all she can do is smile.  
"I'm just getting by."

And he knows it's honest, and he knows it's the truth because at the moment he's living it.

* * *

**Conversations turn to plans for the future; he wants to be in the dojo as much as he can when he's older, but for now he plans on strengthening business as the first son. She has no plans. She floats in and out of careers and classes and events and people; she has the money to be content forever.**

* * *

"Maybe I'll just help you this time!" She says in jest.  
He shouldn't be able to visualize it so clearly, but he does.

* * *

**Plans turn into schedules, and somehow schedules turn into coffee when their free, which turns into dinner.**

**He never expected dinner.**

**

* * *

**

They talk about literature and politics and art; they talk about gardening, they talk about animals (she always wanted one but never had the courage to ask). She never had the courage to ask for much of anything apparently.

**

* * *

**

**He invites her to an intern Christmas party; he notes how pretty the color spiceberry is against her hair.**

**

* * *

**

He can justify it; he has no one else to take with him and he doesn't want her in that apartment all by herself. He has read somewhere that the holidays are some of the most depressing times of the year. He doesn't want her to be depressed, and the only way he can make sure she isn't is if she's with him.

She blushes like a schoolgirl as he quietly introduces her to colleagues and acquaintances and his favorite professor. She's glued to his side, but he doesn't really _mind_. It's been a while since he's had someone depend on him other than himself. It fills a very big void.

He knows she needs someone to depend on.

**

* * *

**

**She invites him to a New Years occasion (the Western version…apparently she has a friend from New York).**

**

* * *

**

He is impressed; she is an excellent dancer, and he cannot still his heart when his larger hand cradles her own, swaying. She is only 'just tipsy' when she leans up to give him a hesitant kiss on the cheek at midnight, a tradition he's never heard of. They clap, champagne glasses clink together and she flushes pink. Fireworks light up the sky as she shivers in her cocktail dress on the balcony; his suit jacket drowns her and he smiles at the sight of her pulling the long arms onto her own, hands swimming in the folds she's pushing up to her elbows. For a moment she flickers to the smallish form of Haruhi, but the image isn't bitter or anything, but rather, he feels just a little tingling sensation in the back of his head that maybe he has something close to that.

There is nothing wrong with keeping an old friend warm, after all.

He walks her all the way to her door that night, just in case someone tries to take advantage of her. She's naive and too sweet, and it would be easy. He keeps his hand on her shoulder, wound round her, just to tell them to stay out of their way. He doesn't want her to have any trouble tonight.

**

* * *

**

**He doesn't realize it at all when her hand lingers on his arm when she points something out in a store, when her apartment mysteriously contains foods he prefers, coffee brands he enjoys, magazines he would at some point read, and movies he's had interest in.**

**

* * *

**

Slowly, so slowly he doesn't detect it, she is creeping into his life. Piece by piece, footsteps following each other become a pair of boot tracks in the snow, side by side through the cold and wet of February, and slower still into spring and finally the summer heat that bakes him and strands him on the streets of another steaming city, far, far away from her.

He had to leave for longer than usual for a law conference, but still he promised her (and these promises both confuse and thrill him) that he'll be back before her birthday. He doesn't have any clue what to buy her, because every article of clothing appears far too mature to her tiny frame, and none of it is soft enough to make her look as gentle and compassionate as she should, as she always has been. Books she has too many of already; boutiques full of hats and jewelry too cold and dead and lifeless compared to her pretty little face in his head.

She has somehow taken over more than just a back shelf, more than just a corner of his mind. Not so suddenly he is thinking about her in the everyday situation; his world begins to shift, and at an aching pace begins to revolve around her smiles and her giggles and the way she _still_ makes him feel so warm and wanted and invited. Meetings, classes, Hoshiko. Reply to a letter, write a report, visit Hoshiko. Pick up cat food for the kitten he bought her for when he has to be out of town, so she won't be lonely. Books she'd like leap into his hand, trinkets from his travels, sweet things Mitsukuni sends in the mail. More band aids: she still hasn't gotten used to cooking for herself. He buys the cute kind; pink hello kitty with flowers and hearts and bows. She puts them on with a smile and a wince and a sheepish laugh when she realizes she's stuck the sides together upon opening it and the adhesive is weak, and in the end he always carefully applies the small bandages for her with thoughtful expression and a tenderness he's never shown with any girl before. Even with Mitsukuni and Haruhi he was blunt and maybe a little rough, because he knew both could take it, and because he'd never been especially careful with his large hands.

But she, she is different, but he doesn't realize. He doesn't realize he treats her skin like porcelain; something so fragile it may shatter if he doesn't pay enough attention.

She throws herself at him in the cute way of one who adores another; one who wants nothing more than to simply love.

He never expected though, in his wildest imaginations, that he would be giving something back at all. He just justifies his care as only that - care for someone who is smaller than himself and clumsy.

His hand absently taps the armrest of the plane, nervously checking his watch for the time again. He's going to be late. He's meeting her at the restaurant after he gets off of the plane for her birthday; her favorite place. His last images of her play out across his mind: she was so short in the crowd of the airport as he made his way down the gate towards his conservative luxury jet. Her sweater is only one size too big and she's waving at him with a smile on her face as he leaves. But he can't smile back.

**

* * *

**

**He doesn't realize that leaving her hurts _him_ now. He doesn't realize he's missing _her_ now.  
Its been two weeks since he's seen her last. Its been almost a year since they met that rainy monday afternoon, and he can barely survive two weeks. He wonders how he survived the two years prior to that rainy monday. He wonders how many rainy mondays he's had since then with her, he wonders how many times he's gotten wet holding the umbrella that's obviously big enough for two.**

**

* * *

**

When they finally reach the terminal he can't help but ignore baggage claim; one of his attendants will get it for him. He makes his way to the garage, ignoring the valet, but claiming his keys. He's an hour and twenty minutes late by the time his sleek silver corvette arrives at the restaurant and he can see her from the darkness of the window. She is smiling sadly at the empty space across from her and stands up, her small purse clutched in her hand. The concierge brings her jacket and she puts it on. He's almost frozen to his seat, but then he shakes himself to life. He's out of the car in an instant, slamming the door behind him, keys still in the ignition. All he can think about is the birthdays before this she's spent alone.

He's always been a person to beat himself up, and right now he might as well have an lead pipe wailing on his self esteem. He feels terrible.

She's just stepping out onto the pavement, heels clicking, when he reaches her.

"Thank you…" she says kindly to the valet as he begins to escort her towards her own car, but she is stopped by his voice.

"Hoshiko." He says strongly and she looks over her shoulder before locking eyes with him.

"Takashi-kun!" She starts, going towards him, looking worried. "Takashi, you look so pale, are you alright?" His feet move on their own. He was so worried. _So_ worried that she would have been crying, that she would be heartbroken, that she would feel stupid sitting by herself. He was _so _worried some punk would try to put a move on her, that someone would hassle her, add to their tip, take extra off of her credit card when she paid the bill.

He was so worried that she would be in a million little pieces.

**

* * *

**

**So worried; for two weeks (and an hour and twenty minutes) he couldn't concentrate at all, he was _so_ worried she'd be alone. That she'd be as lonely as he had been.**

**

* * *

**

She stops walking as he crosses the distance between them until suddenly, he puts his hands on her face, just to be sure she's all there, that she's intact and safe and smiling. He feels her fluttering heart as she sucks in a breath and looks up at him.

"Takashi…?" Her voice is cut off as he crushes her into a hug.

"Gomen." He mutters and she just blinks at the feel of his clothing, arms hanging limply in the air. He squeezes her tighter, "Gomen…I should have called you. I won't let it happen again. You won't ever wait alone again."

Hoshiko doesn't know what to say or what to do. She just hugs him back.

"I…I missed you a lot." She whispers as he slowly moves the hand pressed against the back of her head, "I…I wanted you to come home sooner." Her fingers tangle into his jacket, the honesty and her embarrassment endearing.

"I wanted to be with you. I was very lonely." He replies and she pulls back and stares into his eyes.

"Really?"

There, in front of the bustling street he stoops down and kisses her softly. It's hesitant and shy, but she returns it faithfully.

"Ah." He answers against her lips.

**

* * *

**

**She curls her arms around his neck, up on her tiptoes to compensate the distance. He marvels at how two people can fit together so well, even though he is sort of a tall problem for her. He realizes it just then that he's loved her for a while. She's loved him since the beginning, but finally the two paths have met. She starts to cry a little, but accepts the mopping of her face by his handkerchief and then she laughs and he smiles. **

**

* * *

**

She's always been such a crybaby at heart, but he doesn't mind very much. He'll always be there to wipe up her tears and brush off her clothes. He never wants her to do anything but shine.

After all, to him, she is far brighter than any stars in the sky.


End file.
